


Grief Science

by CornetHummy



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica, Portal
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crossover, Dark Fantasy, Gen, Magical Boys, Magical Girls, Multi, Natural Disasters, Psychological Horror, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-01 10:00:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 163,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CornetHummy/pseuds/CornetHummy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You can have whatever you want if you just wish for it." It's a tempting proposition, but it comes with consequences. Chell knows them well, but she may be the last hope of a divergent timeline. Portal/Madoka fusion AU. Humanized cores and GLaDOS, for a given measure of "human." Major spoilers for Puella Magi Madoka Magica, so proceed with caution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "I know I'm a worthless muddle but..."

April

Mitakihara City, Japan

 

                "What's with that look? Ultimately they were able to defeat it, after all."

                Homura thought she was past the point of crying. She thought after all these dead ends she might finally be numb. No dark pillar loomed over the sky. The city was flooded by what news reports would no doubt describe as a disastrous storm, but there would still be a Mitakihara. Perhaps by the standards of some, this was not a bad end to reach.

                "Still, it's a shame she died before I could Contract her. I doubt someone with that much potential power will come along in quite some time, possibly not in a thousand human lifespans." Kyubey perched on a hunk of concrete sticking out of the floodwaters, gazing down at Homura. She paid him no mind, instead focusing on the drowned body of a teenage girl.

                She would memorize this sight, just as she did every failure. She would remember her mistakes in every timeline, even this odd divergent one, and not make them again.

                "Humans are odd." Kyubey seemed unperturbed by Homura's silence. "Three Magi died to kill that Witch. If you had let her Contract, she might have been able to save them and defeat it herself. And wouldn't it have been fascinating to see what kind of Witch Madoka might have become? We could have filled our quota." He flicked his tail. "Well, no use in thinking about what might have been. I suppose I'll have to recruit more in order to replace the ones that were lost. You're always making more work for me, Akemi Homura. If I didn't know better..."

                Homura stood and turned away from Kyubey, trudging through the waters.

                "Hmm? Where is it you're going? You have more Witches to fight, I'm sure."

                Her hand went to the disc on her wrist as the world dissolved away.

                A world without Madoka was not worth saving.

 

November 

Port Alta, PA, United States

 

                The giggling wouldn't be so bad if he couldn't figure out what it was they found so funny.

                Was it the accent? At first Wheatley had thought the strange affinity Americans seemed to have for British accents would bring him more positive attention, but surely giving a dry report about an American president wasn't made any more amusing by being from Bristol.

               "Ah, yes, so as I was saying, the Harding presidency was marred by a series of scandals, most famously the Teapot Dome affair. It was named, if you'll believe it, after a teapot-shaped rock formation! Though that wasn't the point of contention. It was the..." Ah, drat, one of his notecards was out of order. "A moment, please!'

                As he heard more quiet giggles and whispers from the class, Wheatley quietly cursed whoever decided oral reports were a good idea. If he had to witter on about a president, couldn't the teacher have assigned him one of the more well-known or well-loved ones? No, he got some unpopular prat famous for scandals.

                "...Oil, yes. It had to do with drilling rights..." Wheatley knew he was coming across as an idiot as he stammered through his report. Nonetheless, he held his head high (as best he could while using notecards.) He'd worked hard on that report and he was quite proud of it.

                "...And to this day, they're not quite sure why the old fellow died. Terribly tragic. I mean, aside from the scandals and all he really wasn't so bad! I think, didn't know him or anything, obviously..." He trailed off, glancing to the teacher for further information.

                Sister Lewis had a notorious poker face. She differed from many other teachers in that she didn't redden, roll her eyes, or snort and cover her mouth when unimpressed. She just spoke quietly and smiled as kindly as ever, which in a way made it worse. "That was a fine presentation, Wheatley, but you were assigned to do a report on Chester A. Arthur."

                "...Oh. Right, then." What else was there to say? He had to hope Sister Lewis was willing to grade on effort and accuracy over following directions. How did he make that mistake? He slunk back to his seat, steadily ignoring the giggles and for once thankful he usually sat in the back.

                Couldn't they just have ignored his report like everyone else did? Did they all have to watch him like that, assuming he'd make some dreadful mistake? Why was it he was only the center of attention in unpleasant situations?

                It was like that damned talent show last year. No one had really paid much attention to his (in his opinon [opinion]) rather stellar magic show routine until he'd failed to find the scarves he was supposed to pull from his hat. Oh, then it was a riot, wasn't it?

                When he heard another snicker next to him, he looked to his left and down, glaring through his glasses. The redheaded boy next to him immediately shut up and turned back to his spiral notebook. Not that it was much help against the more persistent bullies, but Wheatley had to admit there were advantages to being a head taller than most of the other eighth graders. 'Johnsons even have productive genes,' Uncle Cave would brag, though the way he'd say it suggested there was more to the joke Wheatley didn't quite get.

                As Mary C.'s report on Ulysses S. Grant faded into a buzz in the background he returned to his margin doodles. After this he'd walk home, hoping to beat those brewing dark clouds. He didn't like to think about anything past that, as long term plans always felt like so much work. Bad enough he'd had to stay up until 2 AM to finish that bloody report.

                Certainly he couldn't concentrate on poor President Grant. His mind always wanted to focus on so many different things at once and almost none of them were the academic subject at hand. It'd be one thing if he were in Literature, or if the school offered a Drama class. There had been a poster in the hallway advertising tryouts for the school play. Wheatley had always been a but curious about the drama club, and there was a certain sense of romance in being able to pour his heart out on the stage in a performance that would reduce the student body to tears. But he kept hearing the laughter of classmates in his head, magnified a hundredfold into an entire auditorium full of mocking. He started to chew his pencil eraser, losing interest in doodling circles and eyes. 

                He turned to look out the classroom window and briefly glimpsed what looked like a flash of white fur on one of the tree branches. It was there and gone, moving too fast to be seen properly. Maybe it was a squirrel? Could the sighting of a rare albino squirrel be grounds to cut class early, lest such an unusual sight go missed by impressionable students? He was tempted to raise his hand and suggest it, but the bell was due to ring in five minutes anyway.

 

                "Hey, Chell! I didn't see you at tryouts."

               As always, Adrian hid any hints of disappointment with a smile. It only made Chell feel worse. She brushed a lock of brown hair from her face as she pulled her jacket out of her locker. "No time this year. Sorry." It was only partially a lie, and she hoped it sounded polite enough. It was nothing personal against Adrian or the team.

                Adrian sighed. She was captain of the girl's indoor track team, and while she and Chell were not exactly close friends, they were at least on positive terms. "Man, we're gonna miss you. Last year we got THIS close to the state championships. But I know you gotta do what you think is best. Is it family stuff?"

                Chell didn't know what look crossed her face when Adrian asked that question, but whatever it was prompted Adrian's smile to vanish in a wave of guilt.

                "Oh, okay, I get it! I won't push," Adrian said as she picked up her gym bag. "Just kinda weird. I mean, we never see you anymore. You get some cooler friends to hang out with instead?"

                Chell winced. She knew Adrian was just teasing, but it hit home. "Mmm..."

                Adrian frowned. "So you don't wanna talk about it. Well, okay. I mean, if you do you can just shoot me a line or something. I'm not gonna judge."

                There was no way Chell could tell Adrian about what had taken over her life, of course. She wouldn't want to, either. Chell had never been good with words, but she wasn't sure even a particularly articulate person could find a way to tell someone 'this is too dangerous to involve you. Just go back to whatever you were doing and forget I exist.' At least, there was no _nice_ way to say that.

                "Uh, if it's about your dad, my own mom-" Adrian stopped short when Chell held a hand up, much to Chell's relief. She didn't want to talk about that. "Right, I'll drop it."

                "...Thanks." Chell felt awful having to brush off Adrian. Track had been her stress relief in the past, her way of channeling her energy into something that wasn't life-threatening. But she wasn't entirely lying about her excuse. There really wasn't time, and there were more pressing matters.

                "And get some sleep, dammit. You look like a zombie." Adrian walked off, leaving Chell slipping her jacket on and checking her watch. As she did she took a glance at the iron ring around her finger, carefully examining the orange gem.

                "Zombie, huh..." Despite everything, she just had to chuckle bitterly to herself and grab her bookbag. No one else called out to her in the hallway and that suited Chell just fine. Invisibility was a survival tactic in school.  She was just going to have to walk home today, gloomy weather or none. As she stepped out into the schoolyard, Kyubey was standing on a railing, likely visible to no one but her. The little creature stared at her with his red eyes.

                "Welcome back, Chell! Hurry, the Witch isn't too far!"

 

                "Knew I should have brought an umbrella. I really shouldn't trust weather reports! I mean, I don't know where the umbrella is, but there has to be one. More than one, if Uncle brought one, yeah?" Wheatley mumbled to himself as he pulled his coat tighter around him. It wasn't quite raining yet, but fat grey clouds hung thick in the sky, and a chill gust turned the streets into wind tunnels. He dashed down the sidewalk as the bus pulled up to the stop two blocks away. "Oi oi! Come on, wait a minute! I can make it, mate, I can make it...!"

                The bus clearly didn't hear Wheatley talking to himself and pulled away when Wheatley had but half a block to go. "Okay, fine. Walking is fine too. Good for you! They say it's great exercise. And therapeutic!  I can...think while I'm walking. Hey, maybe it won't rain!"

                Fat drops splashed against his mop of blond hair and glasses. "Or, you know, perhaps it will. That's grand. Rain is good too. Can't let all the plants not growing in the city in November go without watering, can we God?" Snow wouldn't have been so bad. Early snow meant a possibility of no school the next day. But much as he'd heard that parts of the United States had fairer weather than England, he wasn't impressed with the wet autumns of Port Alta.

                A sharper chill ran down the street as Wheatley took off running for a store overhang. If he couldn't beat out the rain, perhaps he could wait it out. It wasn't as if anyone would care if he got home late. Uncle was the last person to scold anyone for coming home during the witching hour.

                Finding shelter beneath the awning of an art supply store, he stopped to catch his breath and glare out at the general gloom surrounding him. Wouldn't his classmates find this whole mess amusing? "Probably laugh their bloody fool heads off," Wheatley muttered after blowing onto his hands for warmth. "Regular comedy of errors it's been this whole week. If we had money to speak of I guess I could call a cab..." The rain splashed him from the side, thanks to another blast of wind. "A pleasant 53 degrees Fahrenheit and sunny, eh, Weather Channel? Having a laugh at my expense? Well, joke's on you, because I use a program to block all of your ads and-..."

                He realized he was speaking instead of thinking when a girl with brown hair hurrying past turned to stare at him for a moment. Wheatley felt his face go red and he mimicked holding a cell phone to his ear, hoping the girl wouldn't notice that his phone was actually in his pocket. That was a bad habit, letting his tongue run away when there wasn't anyone to hear it. If he had someone to vent to, that'd be a different matter.

                And it would have been a girl his age too, wouldn't it? She wasn't wearing a uniform, meaning she probably went to the public school. Her pause lasted only a second and after resuming her dash she ran through puddles like it was a race. There was what at first looked to be a white cat running after her, though something was off about the body shape and ears.

                The cat-thing stopped and turned to stare directly at Wheatley, red eyes boring into him.

                "Do you want to know a secret? Come with me and I'll grant your wish."

                That sent Wheatley almost stumbling back into the storefront window. He was sure he'd heard that voice echoing in his own brain, right before the white creature took off running. That was impossible, of course. His mind was playing tricks on him, no doubt due to the early stages of hypothermia. There was no logical reason to go running after a girl who probably wanted nothing to do with him and a nonexistent white cat in the rain.

                There was no reason, and yet run after them both he did, though the girl never once turned around to acknowledge him. She probably didn't hear him at all.

               

                "Is the Witch behind this weather?" Chell finally stopped to catch her breath as she arrived at a graffiti-covered brick wall, the ring on her finger pulsing a brilliant orange. "It's definitely here..."

                "I don't think so. It's a strong one," Kyubey warned, "but not enough to affect atmospheric conditions. It's been active for a few hours already, but you were in school."

                There was no reproachful tone in Kyubey's voice (it never had a tone at all) but Chell still got the impression he was trying to imply something. "I can't cut class. Not...anymore."

                "Mm, of course. Nonetheless, hurry up and transform before you enter."

                Chell waved a hand over the ring as it transformed into an egg-shaped gem marked with swirling gold rings. She let its power wash over her, orange and blue circles of light filling her body with power. In the next moment she wore an orange gown over white leggings with a thick orange belt. In her hand she held her weapon, an ornately-decorated white and black gun that crackled with energy.

                She looked back and forth first, in case anyone else had spotted her. The last thing she needed was a fight with the Court over a Grief Seed. When it seemed the coast was clear, she held her hand up to the wall, passing through a swirling circular gate and vanishing from view.

                When Kyubey didn't immediately follow, she couldn't say she was terribly surprised. Even he knew Chell fought best alone.

 

                "So you did come!"

                Wheatley emerged from behind a dumpster, soaked to the bone and wondering how the white creature still looked fluffy and dry. "You...talk? But you're not moving your mouth, mate. I mean it, whoever's doing your puppetry is doing a lovely job hiding the strings, but the mouth movement is a clear giveaway." He looked around up towards the tops of the buildings. "Is this a movie set? Did I just wander onto something like that? Spectacular special effects and-and honestly I just assumed they added things like that with computers afterwards! Do they sell clothes that just change and glow like that? Are they always so...uh, frilly? Nothing wrong with frilly of course. Looked good on her-uh, flattering really. Anyway, if I've wandered onto a movie set just let me know because I'd like to try out and-and this isn't a movie set, is it? Okay, so then WHAT WAS THAT?!" With no one else apparently around, Wheatley panicked to the little furry thing. "There were orange lights and flashes and you TALK and who WAS she, mate? What is all this?"

                Kyubey just shook his head. "Calm down, Wheatley Elliot Johnson." Wheatley could not recall telling this thing his name. "Do you want to see who she is? Are you curious?"

                "I want to know a lot of things," Wheatley admitted after a sneeze. "First of all, mate, what are you?"

                "Kyubey."

                "A kyubey, alright." That didn't help at all, but since Wheatley had no idea what a 'kyubey' was, he had to take the thing's word for it that it was a kyubey. "Okay, I'm calm now. It's cool, it's fine, I'm calm. Just...evaluating a new situation, that's all."

                "Naturally. I don't let just anyone see me." Kyubey walked in a slow circle around Wheatley. "What you need to know right now is that I recruit magical girls and boys, and I can grant wishes."

                "Magical...what? Pardon?" Wheatley picked up Kyubey and gave him a gentle poke in the stomach, feeling for electronics. "You sure you're not a prank, mate?"

                Kyubey shook his head. "It doesn't benefit me to prank you, Wheatley. But humans are always like this. They don't believe me until they see the truth for themselves. Will you follow me?"

                "Follow you? Where precisely? There's just a brick wall and-HEY!" Kyubey had not waited for Wheatley, wriggling out of the boy's arms as if the thing had no bones at all and merely dashing through a swirling hole in the wall. Now that Wheatley looked, he could see something glowing there, an abstract figure holding arms aloft and opening its mouth wide in what might have been song or screaming. There was no one else in the alley. If Wheatley had collapsed from hypothermia or fever outside of the store and was hallucinating all of this, he reasoned there was nothing he could do about it mid-hallucination.

                "Wait, wait! Wait for me, will you?!" He took a deep breath and ran through the gate.

 

                "Okay, I am definitely hallucinating. It's okay." Wheatley held his head and took deep breaths. "I can snap myself out of this! Even breathing. Like-like some kind of yogi. I have remarkable self-control, so if I can just wake up..."

                He wanted to wake up because what he was experiencing was no doubt a nightmare. The buildings extended up infinitely into a purple sky, spiraling into oblivion, and tall purple grass grew up to his knees in what should have been an alleyway. He could see the curve of a horizon if he looked far enough in this hideous violet field, as if he were standing on a hill, but beyond it was nothing but a foggy void.

                What made it worse was the singing. There was a terrible mournful tune ringing through the hills and even covering his ears didn't block it out. It was discordant, following one key and then another, changing its melody all the time. It wasn't being sung so much as screamed and sobbed by the strange, bellowing voice.

                "Okay! Okay, uh, Cube or whatever your name is! Little bunny thing, I...I changed my mind. I very much do NOT want to know what's going on with you or any of this. So if you could take me back, that'd be lovely!" He spun around, but Kyubey was nowhere in sight. "Did you hear me, mate? Take me out! Just point and lead the way, I'll walk out and pretend I never saw you. Won't tell it as a spooky story or anything. Just let me out..."

                "Look over there." Kyubey's voice beckoned in Wheatley's mind and he turned behind him, in the direction of strange flashing orange lights.

                A monster loomed, the shadow of a tree with a terrible face painted on it, a frown with a wide-open violet mouth. There were curious bell-shaped objects on the tree's branches. That thing must have been the source of the singing, interrupted by off-key bell noises. It was swatting at something small, but Wheatley was too far away to see what it was.

                "If you run in the opposite direction, you'll escape the Labyrinth. But that isn't why you followed, is it? You don't really want to run away from something spectacular, do you?"

                Wheatley couldn't run in one direction or the other. His feet felt planted into the ground, even as the blades of grass sprouted up and pulled painfully at his legs. "Is it...is it trying to eat me? It's trying to eat me, mate! The ground, I mean! The ground should never do that! Make it stop!"

                "Is that what you wish?"

                "Y-what is it with you and wishes!? You are terrible at explaining things!"

                "Wishes are everything. Wish for it and you can have whatever you want. If you think you're smart enough to see what's beyond..."

                "...Smart enough? I...I'd like to think so...!" No, he'd gotten this far ~~,~~ [uc] into wherever this was. Outside of this strange place was nothing but a cold, rainy day with months more to follow. Leaving meant another boring and lonely evening in an empty flat eating leftovers and studying materials he didn't care about for a school he hated in a city that barely knew he existed. At least that monster was honest in its presumed desire to eat him. He didn't have to constantly read its expression to see if it was hiding irritation with him.            

                And hadn't there been a girl with Kyubey, too?

                "I'm not...I'm not a loser! Or a coward! Or whatever-whatever else they think I am!" He strained against the violet grass tendrils, pulling against them and bracing his feet against the ground. The tendrils had razor-sharp edges, tearing at his jeans and cutting into his skin as he pulled away, but he ignored the pain and just broke into a sprint. He couldn't run away, not before he saw the girl fighting the monster. It'd be like falling into Wonderland and leaving right away.

 

                "It's just one Witch." Chell usually made short work of Witches of this type. It was the noise the Opera Witch was making throwing her off. It was messing with her concentration, the wailing and ringing filling her ears and leaving her head throbbing.

                She steeled her nerves, aimed and concentrated as balls of light streaked through the air, one to her left and another above the monster. Both left shimmering holes into nothingness where the shots landed, orange and blue portals between space. Never in a million years would she figure out how THAT wish had led to THAT magic, but she wasn't going to question its usefulness in the middle of a fight. Knowing the portals might not last long, she aimed her gun through the hole on her left, firing shots of light magic through and watching as they pelted the monster from above. One lucky shot knocked off two of the bells, and the Witch screeched in pain, swinging a branch-arm at Chell. It had a remarkably long reach, probably due to its stretchy shape.

                Leaping high up, she opened two new portals so she'd fall in one and out of another, landing on the other side of the Witch. She landed facing away from it just for a moment, which is when she saw a humanoid figure running towards her. It was a boy, she saw as he approached, and he was not doing the sensible thing; namely fleeing from the Witch. There was something slightly familiar about him but she just couldn't place it. 

                "What-what are you doing?! Get away!" She turned away from him, having no time to run and grab him herself. If he was still moving and conscious, he wasn't the Witch's target at least, but there was no way a normal human would survive a Labyrinth. "Go!" She glared over her shoulder at him before firing two more shots directly at the Witch.

                The presence of a little white flash running under her feet made the situation clear. "Kyubey." She glared down at the creature. So that's what he was doing. He was going to force that stupid boy's hand.

                "If someone is meant to Contract, they're going to Contract," Kyubey insisted. "Worry about the Witch."

                Sure enough, Chell had paused too long, and something hard as wood barreled into her, sending her flying and sprawling onto the ground. She rolled to climb back up, ignoring the searing pain running through her side. "I can do this, Kyubey," she hissed at the little creature. "Tell him to run..."

               

                Kyubey leaped back to Wheatley, who was doubled over panting from exhaustion and fear. "She's in trouble," he said in a voice eerily lacking in concern. "Of course, she can win that battle. If you're the type to sit back and watch someone else fight for you." 

                Wheatley barely registered Kyubey's words. He was too busy watching Chell. Her jumps were strong and graceful, reaching heights that suggested flight. The look in her eyes, when she briefly called to him and shouted something he couldn't hear, was razor-sharp and hawklike. And she was beautiful, really uncannily so, the way her strange dress fell around her and the way her ornate gun shined in the violet-green light. She was in a different class entirely from anyone he'd ever seen at his school.

                She was remarkable. No, more than that, she was special. Wheatley had always known on some level that there was something special about certain other people, something uncanny and indescribable about a group of individuals that did not include him. They spoke with confidence in class instead of stammering through reports. They seemed to score high on tests without struggling. They were pretty, or brave, or smart, or all of the above and didn't even seem to realize it, adding modesty to their virtues. He was certain people like him existed for their sakes, so they'd have someone to save. Stars had to shine in comparison to something else, after all.    

                And yet, when he looked at the girl in the orange dress, the jealousy he usually felt in the presence of such people was drowned out. She was like one of those shining stars, bringing hope to this nonsensical nightmare world. His fear dwindled when he watched her. And yet, she was limping, wasn't she? She was bleeding, and that thing was huge...

                "What is that, mate? Who is she? What is-"

                "She's a magical girl, a Puella Magi. Against a Witch like that, she is the only hope there is. But you could be remarkable, too."

                "No I can't!" Wheatley took a great step back, staring down at Kyubey. "Look, I know this about myself. I can't! There are people who go on to do remarkable things and I don't even DREAM of them. This-whatever this is, it's beyond remarkable and it's just not something people like me DO. I mean...I can't..."

                He watched the 'magical girl' again. She landed roughly on her leg and he saw her wince, but it didn't seem to slow her down. "That's really magic? Really magic she's using, mate? As in..."

                "Magic and wishes both exist. I can perform miracles for you and give you the power of miracles yourself..."

                She turned to Wheatley and again shouted something lost in the ringing of the bells. Her hair floated around her face. "She's speaking to me! What's she saying? Oh, if she's speaking to me, do you think she cares about me? Do you think someone like her would give me the time of day?"

 

                "Go! Just GO!" Why wasn't he listening? Couldn't he hear?

                Another shrill scream pierced the air; Chell covered her eyes and cursed to herself. Of course, he probably couldn't hear anything. The faster she killed this Witch, the better. It was just one Witch! She'd fought countless others before without partners.

                The boy. That was it. Kyubey knew this would distract her, worrying about a bystander he brought in. She'd just have to get him to flee and either explain afterwards what was going on, or more likely hope he figured it was a nightmare. A regular kid drawn into a Labyrinth had no chance of surviving without a Magi protector.

                Well, she was a magical girl, and she would protect him. That was her job. She held up her hand, opening just one portal to the strange subspace her magic could access and frantically urging him to run in. It'd use up some of her magic, but if he hid in there he'd at least be safe from the Witch. She'd worry about the rest later.

                "Go....!"

 

                Wheatley stumbled back when a hole opened up in the air, its surface shimmering and displaying nothing but a void. He turned to Kyubey. "What is that, mate? Oh, did she make that for me? She...she wants me to hide, doesn't she? Hide behind it." It was a flat surface, after all. "It means she doesn't want me to get killed by that thing! So she does care, right? I mean, probably thinking 'what's this git with the glasses doing here?' but she cares...!"

                Frankly the temptation to run and hide behind what had to be a shield of some kind was strong. Still, he took a deep breath and tried to call to her, certain his voice would be drowned out as hers was. "Look, I appreciate it! I really do! But I can't really go back now, you know? It would just be too...I don't know how to describe this, Lady! Lady? I'm sorry, I don't know your name...! But I want to help you!"

                "Is that your Wish?"

                Kyubey's voice startled him. "'Scuse me, my what?"

                "Wish. If you make a Wish, you can Contract with me and become like her."

                "...Ohhh. I see! I get it now, mate! Okay! Yes, I wish for-no, not that. Or-no! I-if my parents would-no, you probably can't...really, anything?!" How unfair of Kyubey to ask Wheatley something like that in such a stressful situation. "Really there's a LOT of things I want but I suppose asking for all of them at once won't count...her! I mean...no, not I WANT HER, that would be creepy, but...she cared about me and wanted to save me and she's...oh, forget it!" He shook his head, trying hard to organize the jumble of thoughts into a coherent sentence. "I want to be the sort of person who could be important to her! Okay? I know I'm a worthless muddle but I don't want to be anymore. Alright? That Wish enough?...Hey, uh. What-what are you doing, mate?" 

                He took a step back again as Kyubey's ears seem to stretch towards him like ears, and felt an unsettling, burning heat inside of his chest. "What are you doing....?!"

 

               

                The eyes were the weakpoint. It was the strange eyes peeking out of the Opera Witch's trunk. Hitting them seemed to hurt it more. A few more shots and she'd have it...

                "Okay! Alright, I think I've got the handle on this! Kyubey didn't tell me how to do, um, anything. Does he often do that?!"

                Chell blinked and turned to stare at the source of the voice in horror. The boy had rushed in, stumbling over his own feet, clad in a frilly blue tuxedo lined with white and silver. A round pocket watch-like jewel was clipped to his waist, and she immediately recognized it from its bright blue glow. Oh, he didn't...

                "What? Why are you looking at me like that? Aren't you happy to see me? I mean, this is fantastic! It feels great! Nothing hurts anymore.  And I'm all smartly dressed! Bit of a Victorian touch, yeah? I mean not sure why we're dressed like this but that's a side note. And-and look at what I can do!" He opened his hand and a round blue crystal appeared, hovering over him. It shimmered and glowed as he shot a wave of liquid crystal from his hands, which proceeded to really do nothing as far as she could tell. "Okay, um, still working on that. Got a few kinks to work out, yeah? But still! We're partners now, aren't we?"

                She said nothing, reminding herself to worry about it later. In the meantime she could at least direct the newbie so he didn't get himself immediately killed. Shutting the portal she was going to use to hide him, she opened two more, one right in front of him and another over the Witch. She pointed at that one, and then at his hand.

                "What? Oh...oh, I get it now! In here, right? Alright, let's see what that does..." This time, when he shot the wave of crystal it flew right through the two Portals, raining down on the Witch and coating it in what looked like blue glass. This slowed the Witch down, and it screamed in protest, causing both Magi to wince in pain.

                "OW OW OW oh, oh I see now! That's brilliant! Yes, teamwork, right?" The boy wasn't dissuaded even if he looked a bit frazzled from the Witch's voice attack, and tried another shower of blue crystal through the portal. In truth, Chell knew she didn't need it. Slowing the Witch down like that was just a bonus. But keeping him distracted meant he was less likely to get in her way.

                Weighed down by the crystal growing around it, the Opera Witch was a sitting duck. She fired off two shots directly from her gun, and the blasts of glimmering light struck the blinking eyes. With one last awful, melancholy scream that left Chell dizzy and nauseous, the Witch shattered and crumbled into nothing and the Labyrinth dissolved. It left behind a black jewel wreathed in fine metal. Chell expected the new Magi to dive for it before realizing he had no idea what it was.

                In fact, he was paying it no heed, gazing at her instead. "That was fantastic, wasn't it? Oh you were good, of course. I was good! We were both good! We both fight really well and I, for one, think we ought to do it again, next time we have to fight a...uh, he called it a Witch, didn't he? Didn't see a broom or a hat but I suppose that's what it is if that's what he calls it. What is he, anyway? What are _we_? I'm sorry to bombard you with questions like this but he didn't tell me anything..."       

                Of course Kyubey didn't tell him anything. Kyubey never did. Chell was too tired to answer any questions herself, instead forcing his hand open. She called her own Soul Gem into her hand, it manifesting as an egg-shaped orange crystal swimming with liquid light. To her relief, he did the same, making a puzzled noise as she held the Grief Seed to it and drained the faint shadows away. There, she thought, at least she'd shown him that.

                A little voice told her that maybe she owed him a bit more, considering what he'd done, but she hadn't asked him to do it.

                Letting her own transformation revert, she sighed and picked up her bookbag from where she'd stashed it behind the dumpster. When she looked back at the boy, he was still staring at her like an eager puppy. God, he was so happy about what he'd done. Compared to the scared and confused kid he seemed to be in the Labyrinth, he was beaming and grinning like a fool.

                "You see what I did back there, though? Oh, that-that thing you just did. Is that common? Is that maintenance? Listen, Kyubey will tell me more about this later, right? Is there a-a manual? But I mean, I don't regret it! I'll never regret something like this. I did it because I couldn't rightly just let you fight by yourself, right? Would have been cowardly of me and I'm not a coward. It feels amazing. How can you hide a secret like this? I'm going to have to bite my lip to keep from blurting-oh of course I won't tell! Promise, won't tell! Our weird little secret, right...?"

                She stared at him for a long moment, dread swimming in her stomach. He'd done it for her. She thought she was done with this. 'No more partners,' she wanted to say, but she didn't have the energy. She had to get her thoughts together.

                "You shouldn't have," she blurted out without thinking. Immediately she scolded herself. She was usually better about keeping her thoughts to herself.

                Her would-be 'partner' stared and blinked in confusion, the smile not wavering. "Oh, of course I had to! I mean, I didn't have to. No one holding a gun to my head or anything. But I wanted to! I mean, it's a lot of fun when you're actually strong enough to stand a chance..."

                "No." She didn't look away. There was no way to dissuade him now, but at the least she could keep him from getting tangled in her unpleasant affairs. "You shouldn't have."

                She didn't wait to hear his response as she turned and walked back out into rainy street. It might have been cold, but best he learn it from her first. If experience had taught Chell anything, it was that they were both much safer on their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! This is actually a major revision of a long fanfic I started posting last year on Tumblr. I started writing it on a whim and it turned into a thing. After a while, I decided to expand and rewrite it, and that's what I'm going to be posting here.  
> As you've probably picked up, this is an AU both for Madoka Magica (note the presence of magical boys) and for Portal. I've decided to explain this with multiverse theory and handwave it from there. It is what it is.  
> My personal headcanon was that Homura didn't just overwrite events when she traveled back in time, but created innumerable separate timelines. Those timelines kept ticking along in cases where Madoka never went Witch. So here we are.  
> And yes, Port Alta is a fictional city. It's also a really bad pun. (It was originally Port Alto until a google search revealed there to be a real town in Texas by that name.)  
> Anyway, I'll (ideally) be posting chapters in weekly installments. I hope you enjoy!  
> -Cornet


	2. "That was bound to happen again."

"At 8:34 PM on Tuesday, a Familiar was killed before it could spawn a Witch. We suspect-"

"Chell, I know." The white-haired young woman tapped the keyboard with swift, spindly fingers without looking up at her scout. "You don't even need to say it anymore."

"Yes, my Queen."

"You don't need to say that either, unless I feel like it." There was a pause in the air, and the girl peered up over her laptop. "I didn't say 'stop giving the report.' Keep going."

"Yes, m-yes. Uh, Christopher is out of commission."

"Really? That's a shame, I figure he would have lasted longer." She stretched out, setting the laptop aside for a moment and flexing her feet on the bed. It was nice to spend time in a hotel room, and it just took the right amount of hacking to ensure the hotel staff knew she was staying with her mother. Certainly a young girl wouldn't be in the hotel room by herself. "Anything else?"

"High chances of a Witch manifesting tonight." Alex, her scout, shifted from one foot to the other, as if waiting for permission for something.

She just ran a hand through her bangs and sighed. "It's not your turn tonight. Sorry, but I'm nothing if not fair."

That seemed to disappoint Alex, who slumped his bony shoulders and rubbed the bridge of his nose, but quickly regained his soldier-like composure. It seemed all show to her, but if that's how he wanted to act she wouldn't nitpick. "Anything else?"

"There's a new recruit."

"Oh? Hmm." She pulled up the laptop again. That at least presented a momentary challenge, or at least the illusion of one. "Who are they?"

"It's a he. I saw him with...Chell."

She blinked, and then stifled a chuckle. "Oh, of course. Naturally that was bound to happen again. Did you catch a name?"

"Wheatley...something or other."

She snorted, sitting cross-legged on the bed with the computer in her lap. "How unwieldy. His parents must have hated him. Still, can't be too many of those. I can run a search on him." Any excuse to antagonize her rival brightened her day.

"Also, we think the oracle-"

"I'm bored with this now. Get me a hot chocolate from downstairs." She reached over into her purse and pulled out a few wrinkled dollars which she shoved into Alex's hand. "And next time, if any news involves Her, tell me about it first right away."

He bowed, another gesture which earned an eyeroll from her. "If I might ask, My Qu-Uh, Glados, why are we so worried about her? You said with her attitude, she'll be lucky if she lasts-"

"Hot chocolate." She pointed at the door, snapping. "It's not going to get itself while you probe into my affairs."

"...Yes, Glados." He turned around and left, and she sighed in relief, freed from his monotonous drone. Fresh recruits were always interesting. There were information searches to run, school files to hack, statistical research to run based on the data she could find. Her findings were rarely inaccurate.

After all, she was a scientist.

* * *

  
 _Hey, sport! Meeting’s running late. I got a good feeling about this one! Sorry I won’t be back until late again. There’s leftover lasagna in the fridge from a conference lunch._  
 _-Uncle Cave_

  
Wheatley was sure his uncle had used the exact same note before, except he’d written ‘lasagna’ instead of ‘half a panini’ or whatever else had been there. He’d gotten used to coming home to an empty apartment in the lower-rent area of the theater district. At least he finally had his own room, now that Cave had cleared out what the would-be businessman had called his second study. ‘Cleared out’ was perhaps a generous term, as while he had a bed and desk, half of his closet was still full of storage bins loaded with miscellaneous paperwork.

His uncle just wasn’t used to having someone else around, that’s all. The schedule of a man trying to start a business was one of meetings with bankers and potential financers. Cave was married to science and parent to science, with no expectation of being saddled with a foreign teenage nephew. Wheatley tried not to take it personally.  
Instead, he sat on his bed and told the walls about whatever kind of day he’d had, as if his uncle was home listening at the dinner table. It was therapeutic in a way. Saying something out loud kept him from dwelling on it inside, where it might rot and fester like an infection. Usually he’d be telling the walls about plays he forgot to try out for, or classmates making fun of his accent because they were jealous, or about all the girls he was going to ask out someday. Today’s story was a bit more interesting, and he would have thought it all some kind of waking dream, if it weren’t for the way the blue egg shimmered and cast light around his room as it sat on his desk.

“And you know, I thought to myself, ‘she could really use some help!’ And being a gentleman and all, well, I decided to give it a try! The wish was a second thought, really, not important all. And you know what? I did really well, too! Oh, sure I need some target practice, but her and me, we make a good team! I mean, she walked away afterwards, but I’m sure she’s just a little shy, aren’t we all sometimes? Or you know, I tend to loom and we were both rather exhausted. In fact I still feel a mite drowsy, may go to bed early after I finish that essay…” The nice thing about walls was how they didn’t roll their eyes and walk away no matter how much he had to say. At the same time, telling the story aloud, even the version he wished had been the case, somehow made it more real.

“Though I am a little put off by how she just walked away. Is this some kind of rite of passage thing? She leaves me on my own and so does the little fluffy thing. No instructions or anything. Did she just not want my help? And I mean, I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into, but…” But what? He found the words drying up as he stared into the glow of that gem, bubbling with some kind of liquid. “Guess I’d better find a safe place for you, shouldn’t I, then…?”

He didn’t see any shadows, not really. Maybe a little smudge swimming around there, but it was probably nothing. Besides, what was he to do about it now? "Sure, maybe I should have wished for Uncle’s business to thrive so he'd be home more often, or maybe I could have even brought my parents back to life, or wished to be stronger, or...a little less gawky, maybe some muscle definition would have been nice...or having some money around once in a while...but! No regrets, right?" He rolled over onto his stomach on the bed, propping his dinner on a pillow as he ate it. "Kyubey's fault anyway, asking me and pressuring me like that. But she's...really, really cute, and well, that's...I mean it's not a BAD wish. Is it?"

He looked outside the window. It was dark and likely cold, but the rain had let up. Surely he could go for one more hunt and come back before midnight. Would Cave even know he was out late? And who was he to argue with Wheatley about going out at night? “Practice it is! Makes sense, no way to improve otherwise. And really, that way next time I can make sure she knows I won’t be a burden! ‘Oh, me? Not much, just killed another Witch. By myself. As a newbie. Nothing special.’” He mimicked polishing his nails on his shirt and making a nonchalant face before realizing he had no audience for it, and sighed. “Well, better get my coat. Last thing I need now is a cold…”

* * *

 

“Chell, is everything alright? Are you sure?” A woman with brown-black hair tied in a French braid frowned as she looked at her daughter’s plate, barely touched.

Chell stirred the green beans with her fork. “It’s fine. Sorry, Mom, just, you know. Rough day at school.” The savory smell of chicken parmesan failed to revive her appetite.  “It’s no big deal, Mom, really.” She managed to make herself eat at least a bit, working through the numb feeling that followed a Witch fight. 

There was a third place set at the table again, empty as usual. Old habits died hard. On the little kitchen TV, a man confessed his love to a woman, half of his sappy dialogue cut out by Sophie's meowing.

Marie scowled and rubbed the back of Oreo's neck. "You already ate, fat old thing." Sophie rubbed her head against Marie's hand and made a gutteral purring sound. She looked down from the counter at Chell with big green eyes framed by white fur. 

Behind her, in the window, another pair of animal eyes peered out at Chell.

“I’m actually not feeling so great,” she half-lied with an apologetic little smile. “I’ll wrap this up and eat it later if my stomach stops bothering me. Sorry, Mom.” She stood up to take her plate to the counter, wrapped it in plastic and stuck it in the fridge, and gave her mom a kiss on the cheek before retreating to bed. “I’ll see you later, Mom, okay?”

“Are you sure? Abuela's coming over.” A thin, sad smile crossed Marie’s face, and she sat back down at the kitchen table. "You'll at least come out to say hello to her, right?"

Chell nodded slowly. “It’s just…” Words clogged like cotton in Chell’s throat, and Marie took her hand.

“It’s fine. It’s rough on you too, isn’t it?” Marie gave Chell a gentle hug. “The holidays are terrible when things like this happen. But we don’t need him, right? We’ll have a nice winter without him. Best revenge is living well. Just don’t hide away in your room too much, or you’ll miss it.” She kissed Chell's cheek. That made it even worse, the perfectly reasonable explanation for everything. "If something's wrong, you'll tell me, right?"

“Of course I will, Mom.” Forcing her smile, she moved to retreat back into her room.

Her room was a messy affair on her better days, with her hand-me-down sewing machine sitting in the corner silently guilt-tripping Chell for its lack of  recent use and heaps of fabric strips here and there. She nearly missed stepping on a spool of green thread. Her books were strewn across her bed, the way she liked them. And as she half-expected, there was Kyubey, sitting on her copy of  _As I Lay Dying._  
  
"I understand why you're mad at me." Of course he didn't, no matter what he said. She'd long since given up trying to argue with him; it just brought headaches. "You would prefer to work alone. And given your powerset, you're quite suited for-"

Chell tossed a pillow in his face and pulled the book out from beneath him. She was behind in her reading. 

"That was rude! Anyway, he Contracted of his own will. Whether or not you influenced his decision doesn't really matter in the long term, does it? He was vulnerable to Contracting, and would have made a wish one way or another. I can always tell."

William Faulkner was not doing a very good job of distracting her from Kyubey. She grit her teeth and turned the page as loudly as she could without tearing it. 

"Believe me, I wouldn't Contract anyone who didn't have at least some potential. And why not use one of my best local magical girls as a positive example?"

"You use me," she spat out, but there was no response. Sure enough, as she peered over the edge of her book, she found the bed empty of all but assorted workbooks and pens. 

She felt a buzz against her pocket and pulled out her cell phone, frowning. She wasn't going to read it. She was just going to delete it, and...

_So I heard you lured another sap into Contracting so you can get them killed. Congrats. –G_

Yes, it was her. Of course it was her. If it wasn’t a text message, it was email. If it wasn’t email, it was a scrawled note in her locker. For someone who spent an awful lot of time holed up in various hiding places, Glados got around.

Chell stuffed the phone in her pocket, but it chimed again. Four pages of Faulkner went by before morbid curiosity won.

_Really though, I looked up his school records. You’re not exactly robbing the world of a Rhodes scholar here. I can see him having a good future after securing a Bachelor’s of Science in Mediocrity. Not like Caro-_

She deleted the message as quickly as she could, even as another came in. Glados had lightning-fast fingers.

_Remember when my best magical girl teamed up with you and Rita and you got her killed? I just thought I’d remind you of that. She was a real loss to the world. Caused by you._

Deleted. Chell shut off the phone and left it on the nightstand, curling up on her bed. She slowly reached for her backpack to pull out her algebra and history notebooks. The last thing Chell needed to do was to miss more homework assignments because of her.

* * *

 

"Practice, right..." Wheatley was already starting to regret sneaking out. Of course, it could hardly be called sneaking out if no one was there to see him leave. Sure enough, the rain had been the sign of a cold front, and he pulled his jacket tightly around him, breathing on his free hand for warmth. The other held his Soul Gem, glowing blue and serving as a flashlight of sorts. It was egg-shaped just like Chell's, but while hers had been marked by vertical curves of metal, his was decorated with horizontal rings.

"So, are they all different, these things?" Wheatley had to admit he was glad when he noticed Kyubey following him again. There was something a little odd about the creature, but he was company and actually knew something about the situation. "I mean, are they like our thumbprints? What happens if I lose it, can I get a replacement?"

"I would strongly suggest against misplacing it," Kyubey said, trotting after Wheatley until the boy reached down and set the creature on his shoulder.

"I wasn't planning on it! This is what marks the new me, after all. The new me who does interesting things like fight...whatever those are. And save people. And...oh bloody hell, someone's coming! Um, hide in my...you won't fit in my hood, will you?"

Kyubey stood his ground. "They can't see me, remember?"

Wheatley relented, covering his Gem with one hand and hoping it would pass for some kind of light. He avoided the gaze of the person lurching past him, a middle-aged man in a torn suit who barely seemed to see Wheatley. "Huh. Must be drunk. And in the middle of the week! Shameful, shameful..."

When there was no response, he reached behidn him and realized Kyubey had vanished again. "Man alive, that little thing! Really doesn't like to stick around, does he? What's he got to do that's so important now, eh?" He politely stepped around the swaying man, giving a little salute. "Careful there, mate! Lots of weirdos out at this hour. Go get a drink of water or something, yeah?" He would have led the man to a police station, he supposed, but the Gem was blinking in a way that suggested radar. There were monsters to fight.

* * *

 

Moments after Wheatley had run off, something emerald green streaked past the chilly road, too quick to be seen. It scooped up the man seconds before he would have thrown himself into the pit dug by the construction crew.

"Dammit, man," Rita Park muttered as she set the man down against a wall, having stunned him out of his trance and into unconsciousness. "This is the second time this week we had to bail your ass. Go watch a happy show or something. Get out more." The cops would pick him up and assume he was under the influence, and he'd probably believe it too.

"Couldn'ta saved someone hot this time, huh." She dusted off her hands on her green Puella Magi dress and adjusted the wide-brimmed hat that came with it. "No, it's 'unshaven middle aged guy' day. Eugh, he smells like aftershave. And now that idiot newbie's gonna get there first."

"Didn't you say you were giving him a head start?" A cheerful voice piped up behind Rita, and a yellow-haired girl in a pink jester outfit perched on one foot. "Is that what you're doing here?"

"Nah, here I'm just savin' the innocent." Rita grinned and tipped her hat at Alice. "Now I'm givin' the dumbass a head start. Let's see...." She tapped her foot for a few seconds. "Okay, headstart over. Let's get ourselves a Witch!" Grabbing Alice's hand, Rita took off again, faster than anyone should be able to do so.

She couldn't help but 'buzz' Wheatley along the way, sending the boy spinning before he even knew what had hit him.

* * *

 

Wheatley thought at first he'd been hit by a car, but he wasn't in a terrible amount of pain and he hadn't seen any cars passing. They were on a relatively quiet back street. Then he wondered if he'd been mugged by a very speedy assailant, but upon climbing back to his feet he realized everything was in place.

"Well, it must have been a very rude person on a bicycle," he mused. 

* * *

 

"What do you think it tastes like? Can I eat it?"

Rita made a gagging sound as she swung from one birthday candle to another, landing in a puddle of frosting. "Sure, you wanna eat a chunk of Witch? Be my guest. Me? I just wanna blast it to kingdom come." She lifted her green-booted foot and shook it. "And I never wanna see black forest cake again."

The Witch, whatever it was, clearly liked cake. Its Labyrinth was centered around a tower of chocolate cake studded with walnuts and oozing cherry filling that looked a bit too much like blood. Rita hated Labyrinths that looked like food. A Witch had already ruined soup for her once, and after facing a certain Familiar she never wanted to look at apples again. It was like running through mud up that spiraling tower, though Rita's speed and chain whip made the job a little easier. Alice was just jumping from outcropping to outcropping, occasionally tossing her giant boomerang at anything in her way.

The Familiars chasing them were cockroaches, of all things. "So this is what, the Witch of not keepin' your kitchen clean." Rita snorted as she encountered a wall of the clicking, hissing things, each slightly larger than herself, and summoned her whip again as it crackled with green lightning.

"Come on, you know you wanna! Take on the Adventure Girl. I live for this."

"Okay. Never...want to look at cake again. Going to...associate it with cockroaches. Bad association to make with desserts." Wheatley pulled himself up to the top of the cake 'tower,' bruised, battered and dripping cherry goop in his hair. He'd managed to trap a few cockroach Familars with his crystal, but he'd decided it was most effective to hide from as many as possible and sneak by when he could manage it. Sometimes this method even worked.

"Fine, sure, but you're the Witch, yeah? That's you? Not...exactly what I expected, I admit..." It was a lot smaller than the tree-Witch had been, a tall candle dripping hot, bubbling wax all over the cake and peering out at him with an eye in its flame. It made a sputtering sound like sparks before lunging right for the nearest target, which was naturally him. That was when Wheatley realized he didn't exactly have a plan for fighting a Witch alone.

"Crystal stuff, come on, crystal stuff! Do that-that thing you did before! Is there a magic word? There wasn't before! Come on! Got to be something!" He held out his hands, but nothing happened, as the Witch leaned its spindly body at him and slammed into him with brute force, sending the boy rolling across the top of the tower and nearly falling off. He held onto the edge with whatever grip he had left, about to haul himself back up when a flash of green blinded his vision.

"Whatsa matter, buddy, BURN OUT?" The voice was loud and brash, clearly female, with a Texan accent that sounded just a touch exaggerated. As Wheatley pulled himself back up onto the platform, he saw a dark-haired, Asian magical girl in green standing right in front of the Witch, lightning crackling around her. Her outfit suggested a ballerina, save for the rather out-of-place cowboy boots and wide-brimmed hat.

"Nah, that's not quite right. How about, 'Partin' is such SWEET sorrow?' Yeah, that's what I'll say when I finish this one off. Or, 'Hasta la PASTRY, baby. Or-" The Witch bore down on the green cowgirl, but with a strange blur of movement she was standing just to the right of it, laughing. "That's right! Can't catch me, can ya? Bet ya wish you had arms now. Hey, Alice!"

On cue, a huge boomerang cut into the side of the Witch, slicing out a chunk of its wax body. It started to melt into itself as another magical girl, this one pale, blond and clad in pink, caught the boomerang with one hand and landed next to her apparent partner. "Are you really that worried about a catchphrase, Rita?"

"What good's a fight without a catchphrase? You ever see an action movie where they're all business and no talk? No, cuz that's BORING." Rita took off again, dashing with incredible speed up the body of the Witch, producing a green chain-whip around her which she brought down right through the body of her prey as she landed, splitting it neatly in half. That seemed to do the trick, as the Witch spewed wax in protest before its flame went out and the Labyrinth itself vanished with the smell of burnt sugar.

"That...that's my Witch," Wheatley protested, though he doubt they heard him and he didn't have the energy to move against them. He realized he was technically still on his hands and knees, and stood up, dusting himself off and turning red. "I mean, it was my Witch."   
  
Rita eyed him for a second, and then laughed. "Yours! Yeah, sure buddy. You had dibs." She nudged Alice. "Told ya it'd be funny if we waited for him to get his ass kicked first."

"HEY!" Wheatley pointed at Rita, wounded ego fueling a second wind. "That's just unfair! And cruel! What if it had eaten me? What if I was eaten by a candle while you two just watched and ate popcorn? I thought you, uh, we were heroes!"   
  
His grandstanding didn't seem to impress Rita at all, who walked right up to Wheatley and somehow managed to look down at him even though he was taller. It was something in her gaze that did it. "You such a hero, next time don't walk right past a victim in trouble, Beanpole. That zombie-lookin' guy? You know Witches eat 'em, right?"

They did what? Wheatley felt the color drain from his face, and he cleared his throat. "Oh, uh...well, of course I knew that. I just figured that...I mean, I didn't, um, in my careful calculations..."  
  
Rita just snorted and turned away again. "Newbies. Am I right, Alice?"  
  
"Are you right that he's a newbie? I don't know. Are you a newbie, Mister?"  
  
"Stop calling me that!" Somewhere along the line, Wheatley's second wind had dwindled to a slight breeze, and he was suddenly aware of how tired and sore the fight had left him. He let his transformation revert, and Rita smirked.

"Newbie, got it. Look, I'm gonna give you this because you're kinda cute, as far as doofy guys go." Rita slipped a piece of paper into his hand, and he opened it up. It was a number.

"...Oh!" His mood improved immediately. "Is this your...?"  
  
Rita stared at him for a moment and then laughed, a full guffaw with hands on hips. "See, Alice? Everyone wants me. Nah, that's the number you text if you wanna get in contact with the Queen."

Bravely withstanding the pain of another crushing blow to his ego, Wheatley looked back down at the number and wrinkled his forehead. "Wait, Queen? We've got a Queen?"

"She calls herself that, anyway. You wanna know anything about anything, give her a text. She'll meet with ya for a consultation. How do you think we got that good?" Rita examined her fingernails as she let her own transformation revert, revealing a baseball cap, jacket and old jeans. "I mean, I was an expert from the start, but even I benefited from a few pointers. She's a...kind of a scientific sort, I guess. You know, nerd powers. You should know, you look like a nerd."

"I am not a nerd," Wheatley mumbled as he adjusted his glasses, and slumped. "Oi, fine, I'll look her up. And...figure out how to get home from here." He hadn't thought about that. "To the Theater district..."

"Just straight along 21st Street and take a left. Seeya, Nerd." Rita waved over her shoulder and ran back towards Alice. "So, you got the Seed, right? The Queen, she doesn't really like late payments..."

Exhaustion hit Wheatley in full once he no longer had anyone to talk to, and he leaned against a wall, looking at his Soul Gem again. It was a bit clouded, but not so bad when he squinted. He could always catch another Witch and get one of those Seeds to clean it tomorrow after school. As it was, he was supposed to have finished an essay he'd no doubt have to slam through in the wee hours of the morning, and he'd forgotten to eat dinner.  
  
"Trickier than I thought, this magical stuff. She made it look easy, too. Shows what a pro she is, I guess! That...that girl in the orange." He dug his hands in his pockets as he slumped back off. "Good thing if anyone mugs me I can just go all superhero again, yeah? And where the devil did Kyubey go anyway?"

* * *

"Go away."

"That's a strange reaction to have. Aren't you curious as to what I am?" Kyubey sat on the edge of a bed, peering at its inhabitant. 

"Fact: I'm dreaming you. This is a stupid dream. You're a Pokemon. Espeon, #196."

"...I don't even know what that is." 

The boy peered at Kyubey through bleary eyes, and then slammed his head back on the pillow. "Fact: I need to have more logical dreams."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I made Adventure Core a girl.  
> Because I could.


	3. I know when I'm not wanted.

"How can you deny the reality of something right in front of you?"

Craig Wilson could do just that very well. He wasn't going to acknowledge a waking dream brought on by staying up too late. He walked to school with his headphones cranked up and yet the little creature which did not exist kept talking to him over it. The fact that the thing wasn't moving his lips was further proof of his impossibility.

"If you saw me, Craig, it means you were meant to meet me. It's fate."

The boy stopped and glared down at the creature. "Fact: fate is a construct. It isn't real and neither are you." He walked briskly along, trying not to think about the fact that he was trying to outrun a hallucination.

And there it was again, the little creature with long ears, standing right in front of him on the sidewalk. Craig knew it couldn't exist. None of the other passerby were looking at it, and the sighting of a new species in broad daylight would surely arouse some kind of commotion.

"Fact," the creature parroted. "If you dismiss me, you'll always be left wondering if I was real after all, and if so, what the implications of that fact are."

"Fact: No I won't." Craig felt heat rise to his cheeks and ears as he realized people might see him talking to nothing. He felt stupid talking to it at all. But no one seemed to notice, much to his relief.

"I chose to appear before you for a reason, Craig Wilson. There's something you want that you can't get otherwise, isn't there? You call me impossible, but what you want is also impossible."

Craig stood still for a moment and then shook his head. "No! No, I'm not engaging...myself in some introspective back-and-forth between my subconscious. There's nothing I need. Good day, Sylveon." Feeling incredibly foolish, he started walking on again. He wouldn't tarnish a perfect attendance record due to a waking dream.

"Don't you have a wish to make?"

He stopped again. No, wishes were useless. No, there was no way this creature could exist. Perhaps he was still dreaming, having finally fallen asleep after a restless night. It was one of those odd dreams where he was sure he'd already woken up. Which meant, logically, that nothing he did had any consequence.

"Okay." Craig turned to face the creature who didn't exist. "Let us say, theoretically, I had a wish. What would that mean?"

* * *

The moment Chell saw a flash of platinum-white hair in the crowd, she sucked in a breath and hoped it was just a very short old woman. Of course it wasn't. For someone so vocal about hating Chell, "Glados" certainly knew how to find Chell at the worst moments. 

"So." Sure enough, Glados stepped out in front of Chell on the sidewalk, wearing her hair in plaited braids. She had a white and gold coat and a red scarf around her neck. Petite and feminine, Glados looked like a perfectly normal girl if one didn't look too hard at her gold eyes. 

Chell sidestepped Glados and kept on walking, but something grabbed her hand behind her. "Hey...!" She pulled away and glared at Glados, who was holding a purple marker and mock-pouting.

"You're so rude. And responsible for the death of my favorite magical girl, but we've been over that recently. "I came all the way out here out of the kindness of my heart to give you important information. But it's fine, I know when I'm not wanted. I'll just give it to someone else." She tossed one of her braids back over her shoulder. 

Chell counted off on her fingers. "I'm stupid, I'm boorish, I'm fat. One of those?" She figured she could at least save them both time. The White Queen had a few favorite insults she clung to like a puppy's worn toy.

Glados waved a mittened hand. "Oh, that just goes without saying. At least you know you're a terrible person. I mean, you do know that. How you're a terrible person. But that has nothing to do with what I was going to tell you. I mean I don't go out of my way to tell you the obvious." She cleared her throat. "Wheatley Elliot Johnson. He resides at 113 64th Street, at the Apple Hill apartment complex. His phone number is-Oh! Well, that got your attention."  
  
Indeed it had. Chell was staring at Glados, hands clenched and white-knuckled. Glados fancied herself a hacker and had numerous other ways of finding personal information on those she chose to target. 

"I thought so. You were going to abandon him to die, but you can't bring yourself to do that because heaven forbid you pass up the chance for an adoring follower. I don't know which is more abhorrent. Here." Before Chell could stop her Glados grabbed her hand again and used the purple pen to write something in her palm. "There's his phone number. I suspect he'll join the Court soon enough, if he's got enough brains for basic self-preservation. I mean, we've already contacted him and all. But I like seeing you try and fail to make new friends." A moment later and she'd disappeared back into the crowd of commuters, leaving Chell staring at her hand halfway on her way to school and feeling like an idiot.

It wasn't her problem. He _wasn't her problem._ And even if he'd started out cheerful and optimistic, she knew how it would go. She knew how things would progress whether she was there or not, and she didn't want to have to watch it again. 

She sighed, pulled out her phone and started texting as she walked through a puddle. At least she could justify it to herself as a practical move. He was a barrier-user. She'd rather have a defensive magical boy as an ally than an opponent, especially since there was no way in hell Rita would team up with her again. 

Pausing, she sniffed the smeared purple ink. 

Was that a  _permanent marker?_

* * *

 

 

 

It took waking up extra-early, sneaking a Diet Coke from the fridge for breakfast, and staggering to school half-asleep. Wheatley, an expert in last-minute work, managed to hammer out and turn in an essay on time. He saw his refusal to fall asleep during math class as proof of his growing sense of discipline, and rewarded himself with a nap through geography. The day felt surreal, and not just because he was sleep-walking through it. Everything was different, and yet not. He was in the same classes with the same classmates who threw paper at the back of his head or snickered at him when he slumped over his desk in exhaustion, the same geography teacher who shot him a dirty look for that nap, on the same run-down Catholic school he’d been attending for a year and a half now. Until yesterday, he’d assumed the biggest change he’d experience in the near future would be entering high school in the fall.

Of course, how could he have predicted all of this?

Tried as he could, he couldn't stop thinking about that girl in the orange dress. Maybe she really didn’t want anything to do with him. What sort of things could ‘important’ mean? During his lunch period,  as he idly devoured a meal of rubbery chicken sandwich, he went over every way in which one person might be important to another. Friend . Significant other. Enemy. Rival. Relative. Responsibility. Burden.

"Couldn't possible be her enemy," he mumbled to himself. "I mean, obviously the Witch-monsters are and I'm not one of those. But burden...I'd hate that! Man alive, that'd be the worst. I'm already a burden." With grandparents too old to take care of him, he'd been passed on to his uncle after the death of his parents. "I mean, thinking she'd only be giving me the time of day because she's obligated...I get enough of that."

If what Kyubey had said was true, Chell had some powerful kind of magic, and he had crystals. Defensive magic, is that what it was? He hadn't even managed to fight one Witch on his own and he'd gone up against two in the last 24 hours. That was a decision he was already regretting, wishing the school hadn't banned energy drinks. He wasn't sore or worn out, but he desperately needed more sleep.

"But you know, if I master all that magic I've got, she can't call me a load! No one could. Can't get made fun of by hick Flash-wannabes, either. I mean, this should be fun! It's magic! Transformations and the like! I mean, there's that Queen lady...bet she's bossy, but at least she seems to know something. And talk." He blended what was called gravy with the obviously instant mashed potatoes in an attempt to make both edible. "Right, I could learn from the Queen and then go back and help her! I mean, my Wish was that I'd become someone important to her. That's got to mean someone impressive! Maybe I'm not now but it WILL happen, in the future!"

Imagining himself shining and bright in that silly blue tuxedo, guiding her effortlessly against a cartoonish Witch, helped him pull himself through gym class. He even ran faster and jumped higher than normal, with enough coordination to actually dribble the ball and throw it across the court. And here he thought he was too clumsy for basketball! If only he didn't loathe competitive sports.

"Still," he mused aloud as he gathered his books from his locker, "probably shouldn't go overboard. Fought two of 'em yesterday and this thing's looking a little..." He stared at the gem in the ring for a moment. "Well, not so bad! It's probably just in need of a recharge. I'll take the night off. Won't even think about this magical thing tonight after I message that Queenie. Just a nice evening by myself, catching up on sleep. Uncle probably left money for takeout. Yes, tonight I won't even think about-"

His phone buzzed and he pulled it out, staring at the message. Blood rushed to his cheeks and ears. It was her! She wanted to meet up! What would he say? Where would they meet?! He didn't even know her name! His apartment? No, too potentially creepy. Hers? No, imposing and creepy. Outside of school? Boring, and whose school? What if she turned out to be a violent sort and was actually planning on turning on him as potential competition? Rita had suggested Magi were competitive, after all. What if...oh, of course! He knew just the place.

* * *

 

"I just really don't understand."  
  
Craig didn't say that often. It felt lazy. There was nothing in the world which couldn't be understood with enough effort. But what he was holding, and what he was wearing, and what had just happened made no sense. He truly didn't understand and it brought a sick, frightened feeling to his stomach.

"It's magic, as I told you! If you have proof before your eyes and in your hands that magic is real, you have no choice but to accept it as a fact, right?" Kyubey looked up at Craig, distorted through the prism of a bright red Soul Gem. 

The young boy sighed. "Look, this is just a lot for me to take in. Please give me a moment."  
  
"Of course. Just remember your Contract. And don't worry, your wish will definitely come true." Kyubey leaped up onto a shelf and then seemed to leap behind it, vanishing out of sight. Craig was left sitting in his room, staring at a Soul Gem as it sent a red glow against his dark skin. 

"Fact: I just made a 'contract' with a Pokemon. Kevin would get a kick out of that..." He rested his head on his folded arms. "But it's alright, isn't it? What else can I do for him? I'm his big brother. And I can only help him in dreams."

* * *

Chell really had no idea what she was doing. It had been Wheatley's idea to meet here, and he hadn't been hard to find. He was a beanpole with glasses and curly blond hair that hung over his face like a sheepdog's fur. At least she didn’t have to talk very much as they waited in line at the coffee shop. Wheatley was apparently very good at doing the talking for everyone.

“So I am really glad that you got in contact with me, though I admit I'm not sure how you got my number. But that's alright! I mean I'm on Facebook too, but I don't use it very often. Man alive, am I glad you're normal. Um, by that I mean you're not...you know, you didn't lure me here and then try to trap me in the basement like some horror story from the internet! Not that I figured you would but-but what I mean is, refreshingly normal! Good-normal. I mean, all things considered what with us both being magical whatevers.” Wheatley didn’t seem to care about being overheard, but then, the topics of conversation were so ridiculous that ideally, no one would think much of it. "Have I completely insulted you beyond all repair yet? Because that really wasn't my intention at all..."

Chell was silent for a few seconds, and then chuckled despite herself. She waved a hand to indicate it was fine. He was a lot more nervous talking to her than he had been about using magic.

“Oh good! Good, because I'd hate to have finally found you again and then you leave thinking 'god, what a bloody loser!' It's just sort of been a while since I've spent a lot of time talking to someone new in a nice, casual setting and you're pretty.” Wheatley's blue eyes widened and he turned red, looking mortified. “I just mean, you know, you’re kind of pretty in a way a friend would call a friend pretty, and…”

“…Thanks. Um, we’re holding up the line.”

“Oh, right, right, sorry, very sorry! Um, large sized pumpkin hot chocolate, please, skim milk, extra whipped cream, try not to fill the cup up too high this time, please. Last time it splashed all over my hand, wasn’t fun at all, let me tell you…no, I'm not going to use those silly Italian words! Large. The big one. Yes, thank you!"

Chell ordered a mint tea. Once the two were settled, Wheatley sat across from her with an eager smile, like a puppy, and Chell realized she’d have to start the conversation no matter how little she liked talking.

“I’m sorry I walked away like that. I was just tired. I’m glad you’re okay, though.” She stared into her tea instead of drinking it.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay? It’s not so bad, really. I mean, the Witches are tough, but I’m tough, too! Not as tough as you, I mean, you’re really fantastic at fighting those things…”

 “Yeah.” Chell was less than enthusiastic. “I sure am. Anyway, it might get rough later. It will definitely get rough later.” She saw Wheatley’s puppy face melt into confusion, and continued. “We’re in the same boat now, and we’re never getting out. I’m pretty sure the changes inflicted upon us are permanent.”

“Why would we want to give it up?” Wheatley tilted his head, unaware of the fact that he was wearing a whipped cream mustache. “I mean sure, it’s dangerous, but it’s like riding a bike, isn’t it? You keep at it and get better and better. Kind of surprised Kyubey recruits people our age to do this, I would have expected adults, maybe soldiers, but if we get a start now, we’ll be amazing by the time we’re adults ourselves.”

Chell didn’t comment on why Kyubey recruited teenagers and children, because she herself didn’t know. It troubled her. She could handle it, but not everyone could. “I’m just saying, if you ever do decide you want out, well, there is no ‘out.’ So don’t forget that.” She took a sip of tea before continuing, gazing out the plate glass window at the passerby outside and the near-skeletal trees. At least talking was getting a little easier.   
  
"Thank you for helping me. But I work alone."

As she feared, Wheatley’s face fell like a stack of blocks. “Oh, oh, of course. Like Batman, although Batman still had Robin so that’s a bad example! More like Spiderman, I guess. Well, I understand, I don’t want to weigh you down or anything…”

“It’s not that!” Chell realized she was raising her voice, and stopped short. “It’s not that. I worked with a partner once. A few, actually. It went poorly and I don't want it to end that way again/"

The tall boy sat up. “Again?”

Crap, that had just slipped out. “Caroline. Her name was Caroline. I used to work with her and Rita, under Glados, actually. I even used to get along okay with Glados back then.” She was thankful for the calming mint tea, as it was hard to stay composed when talking about this with anyone. “I opened those portals and attacked from a range, Rita was all offense, and Caroline was a healer. She couldn’t fight very well on her own. We just _found_ her one day after we fought a Witch, just like that.” She couldn’t bring herself to talk about it much further, or to look into Wheatley’s eyes to see his reaction.

He was quiet for a few seconds, at least, and when he spoke, his voice was softer. “Caroline…there was a Caroline Whitney in my class who died a few months after I transferred in. Didn’t know her very well. They said it was all quite sudden and horrible, brain injury from a soccer match.” She could see his big hands fidgeting in his lap. “That wasn’t it, was it.”

“She did play soccer.” Chell still didn’t want to make eye contact, because she didn’t want to cry in front of Wheatley of all people, so instead she stared at the mural on the walls. “Rita blamed me because I was always telling her to focus on her healing instead of learning any good offensive skills, in case she was caught on her own. I was kind of bossy, back then. I quit working with Glados and her White Court.” She finally managed to look back at his stunned blue eyes. She had just revealed that people died in their line of work; best he learn about it sooner rather than later.

Wheatley was silent for a long time, and his puppy-like mannerisms were gone. “I know I could die,” he finally answered. “I almost did die, yesterday, I just pretended otherwise. Kyubey said last night that humans are good at lying to ourselves and believing it. So don’t think that just because I’m all cheerful, I’m not taking it seriously or anything. I am. It's new and a bit scary and I'm not sure what I'm in for, so I've been hoping for anyone I could talk to about it. Like you. I don’t know what it is, but I feel more comfortable, just overall braver around you. You’re just that kind of person, maybe because you were so brave when I saw you fight. I had no idea you were scared at all.”

Great, she realized. It was what she thought it was. What a stupid, stupid wish. She blushed at the compliment despite herself, and it irritated her.

“Glados contacted you, didn’t she?”

“Um, yes. I’m meeting up with her tomorrow.” Wheatley had the good graces to look sheepish. "I didn't realize the two of you had a bad history. I really hope this doesn't sour things between us! I mean, I guess-I guess what I'm saying is I'd like to be friends even if you don't want a partner."

Chell sighed. “Look, it’s alright. I have my own reasons for opposing her that have nothing to do with you. If you join up with her, I’ll understand.” She peered at him over her tea. “But it means we might be enemies. We’ll be at odds except when facing Witches, because I want nothing to do with her plans. She hates me."

“I see. I think I understand. Well, not exactly. It's all so complicated!” Wheatley’s free hand was gripping the leg of his jeans now, as a nervous gesture, and he took a long drink of hot chocolate, triggering a coughing fit when it went down the wrong pipe. His hand let go of the mug instinctively when he covered his mouth, and the hot cocoa spilled everywhere, over the table and Chell’s own sweater.

“Oh gosh, oh crumbs, I’m sorry! I’m really sorry! I did not mean to do that, it just went down too fast and it was too hot. Oh, this won’t stain, will it? It’ll probably stain.” Wheatley stumbled to his feet and returned with handfuls of napkins, trying desperately to soak up the spilled chocolate from the table and rug. “Here, you can use these for your sweater. I’m really sorry…”

Maybe it was the ridiculousness of the situation, or the degree of tension it had just destroyed, or just relief at having had a chance to tell _someone_ about Caroline who wasn’t working for the White Court yet, but Chell realized she was laughing a little. She covered her own mouth to stifle it. “I’m sorry. No, it’s fine, don’t worry about it. I should probably get home soon, though, I don’t get to spend a lot of time with my mom and I should, you know. Get changed.”

“Oh, right, right, of course. I’ll let you know how things go with, well, you know.” Wheatley was still completely failing to clean up the mess, kneeling under the table as hot chocolate dripped onto his head. Chell used the excuse to retreat, pulling her jacket over her sweater to hide the stain. She really did not know what to think of him.

The Court was going to eat him alive.

               

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I'll update it once a week!" Ha ha...haaa. No, really, I am going to try staying on schedule this time.


	4. It's not actually a dream.

“Isn’t this Witch neat-looking? I mean, Witches are horrifying, but they’re kind of cool, right? What do you suppose it uses that for? Or that?”

If Chell had thought Wheatley was a chatterbox, he paled in comparison to the blond in the pink harlequin outfit flinging her enormous boomerang at the pyramid-shaped form of the Witch Abigail. Alice was light on her feet and talented, clearly not a rookie, although Chell hadn’t seen her around this part of the city before. She was also, in Chell’s opinion, entirely too cheerful for someone fighting in the heart of a Witch Labyrinth.

“Why do you suppose they make these things anyway? I wonder why she used mushrooms?” Alice bounced right off of the cap of one of the blue mushrooms growing along the walls, doing a midair flip and catching her boomerang as if showing off. “Who are you, anyway? I don’t really live around here, I’m just visiting my cousins for a couple of weeks.”

Talking during a fight was something Chell generally didn’t like to do, and at the moment she quite had her hands full leaping through portals to avoid the caterpillar-shaped minions the Witch sent after her. She fired a shot of light up at the pyramid, which wriggled and laughed before opening right up at the point like a package, vomiting out more caterpillar beasts. A wave of disgust ran under her skin as one of them clung to the back of her head, dripping some kind of slime through her hair.

“Oh, this is so much fun, though! Do you suppose these caterpillars will become butterflies someday? Isn’t that amazing, how something can change into an entirely different creature over time?” Alice, carefree as ever, flung her boomerang through the wave of caterpillars, slicing a number of them in two. “What do you think happens if I attack the pyramid when its mouth is open?”

Of course, Chell noted to herself, there was always value in asking questions.

She opened one portal over one of the mushrooms, in a relatively safe spot, and fired upwards at the pyramid again. This time she anticipated the disgusting caterpillar rain, opening another portal beneath her feet and dropping through towards the mushrooms. It was impossible to close it before more caterpillars fell through as well, but she at least managed to close the portal on a few of them, leaving them squirming in little halves.

Alice, at least, took the cue, leaping down to the ground and spinning her boomerang rapidly in one hand until it resembled a wheel. “Wheel of Fortune! Let’s see what happens when I do this!” She flung the boomerang with both hands up into the mouth of the pyramid, which sputtered and shrieked, opening up all the way like a grotesque flower before melting into nothingness.

As the Labyrinth cleared to reveal the dark corner of a park where it had materialized, Alice stretched her arms and laughed. “Wasn’t that so much fun? I love fighting Witches and Familiars. What’s the difference between a Witch and a Familiar, anyway?”

“A Witch is a Familiar which has taken a life.” Chell stated the facts without much emotion, because it was easier that way. She didn’t like to think about the degree to which she depended on Witches existing. She tried to tell herself that Witches would exist either way, and by hunting them like this, she at least minimized their casualties. She tried to tell herself a lot of things. “I think that’s all, anyway.”

“Oh.” For a moment, Alice’s cheer faded, and she stared up at the late afternoon sky. “I wonder if that’s where all the Witches came from?”

“…Of course it is. Where else would they come from?” Witches spawned Familiars, Familiars became Witches. It was a cycle.

“I’m just wondering.” Alice rocked back and forth on her heels. “I live downtown in the Harbor district. I hunt as many Familiars as I can there, because I don’t want them to hurt people. But Witches still materialize all the time. Am I just not hunting enough of them? Do Familiars reproduce themselves? Oh,” she added as she picked up the Grief Seed, “do you want this?”

That was a surprise. Chell had fought along other magicians who had wandered in from time to time, but few were so willing to share. “Well, thank you, I-wait.” Her eyes fell on Alice’s own Soul Gem, glowing in the harlequin’s hand, its pale pink looking rather more like a darker rose. “Are you sure? You look like you need it…”

For a second, Chell could swear she spotted a fracture in Alice’s bright smile, but after the blond vigorously shook her head, it was gone, much like smoothed-over makeup. “No, it’s fine! It’s not too bad. I’ll go hunt another Witch if I need to. You have it. I insist.”

It didn’t feel right, but on the other hand, Chell had passed up on a Grief Seed herself the other day when Wheatley unexpectedly jumped to her side. She felt guilty as the Seed restored her Gem to a vivid sunset orange, while Alice’s remained a little dim. “Thank you,” she mumbled.

Alice just grinned again, her magician outfit dissolving in pink light to reveal overalls and a pink t-shirt. “Say,” she added, “what do you think happens if we don’t…you know what? Nevermind, I should get going.” Was that another makeup crack in her voice? Before Chell could ask further, Alice had already spun around and was heading back to wherever she’d come from with a little wave. “Thanks for the help!”

Chell’s eyes fell back on that Soul Gem of hers, rubbing sweat off of her forehead. She’d have to come up with another story to tell her mom to explain why she was an hour late returning from school. Maybe she could stop at the market to pick up something for dessert, in order to make it up to her.

Every so often, Chell went over a theoretical conversation in her mind, one in which she confided everything in her mom, everything that had been going on for the past year and a half. Whenever she got to the part where her mother would react, the scene would freeze, falling apart like warped film.

* * *

 

As Wheatley exited the school building, something inside of him pulsed and writhed.

“What-what was that?!” He leaned against the stone wall around the campus, realizing others were staring, and carefully turned away from them, waving a hand. “Um, nothing, nothing, just a little bit of a headache, that’s all, don’t worry about me!” He half-ran, half-staggered until he could get away from the crowds leaving school for the day, and out of what felt like instinct, pulled out his Soul Gem. It was pulsing, and flickered brighter as he started walking down the street. He felt as if he were on autopilot, letting the blue light and some odd sense tugging at his mind lead him towards…a wall.

It was just a wall in the back of an art store. In fact, it was the same art store he'd waited by in the rain just a few days ago. How much had changed since then in so little time!

“…That’s where one of those things is, isn’t it?” It was a gut feeling, his magic telling him something. “There’s a Witch in there. And I’m talking to myself again.” He slapped his forehead, looked around, and took a deep breath. "Uh, Kyubey? No chance you'd like to show up and give me some advice? Last time I tried doing this it didn't work out so well. Got unfairly tricked, I did..."

He could just walk away from it, pretended he hadn’t seen this one. He wasn’t really ready to face another Witch yet, was he? His plan was to strengthen himself and then go pro, so to speak. There were other magicians, magical girls and boys or whatever they might call themselves. They’d take care of the problem.

And he’d never grow any stronger, and Glados would declare him a failure for sure, someone who should just give up right away. After all, who becomes a superhero and does nothing with it?

“…Alright, well, whatever’s in there, you’d better be ready for me!” A pillar of blue light surrounded him, and he emerged transformed, slipping through the circular gate leading to the Witch’s personal zone. "And please, please don't be full of cake. Please don't be disgusting this time, would you?"

 He stumbled into a cavern where walls dripped with still wet-paint that pooled at his feet, swirling in every color he could imagine. It bubbled and flowed like lava, splashing against the stone walls of tunnels that seemed to extend forever in four directions. "Mmmm-hmm." Wheatley sighed. "Bloody disgusting." He could hear a sloshing sound as he lifted his soaked boots. "Do I have to wash out these transformation clothes? They were such a nice shade of blue, too..."

He spotted a figure ahead of him, and without any other kind of landmark, rushed towards the stranger, who whipped around the moment the splash of long legs signaled his arrival. It wasn’t Chell, or Rita, for that matter. He knew this person in a red, hooded cloak and mask, he was sure of it, though he had to look through the mask to remember where he’d seen the other magician.

“…Wait, aren’t you the class president!?!”

“What!?” Craig’s eyes widened, his hands clutched around a scarlet hammer that dripped with five different colors of paint. “You’re…I don’t care who you are, get the Hell out of my nightmare!”

“Okay, um, look, mate, it’s not actually a dream. I know it sounds and looks like a dream, the really freaky kind you can’t even completely remember fully when you wake up? And you wonder how you didn’t even know it was a dream because you do things like fly and ride a dog to town without thinking about it? But this is in fact happening, we are in fact knee-deep in what I hope is paint, and, um, you have a little…blue right there.” Wheatley indicated his own left cheek with his hand. Craig ignored it as he swung that scarlet hammer of his through a basketball-sized ball of paint with a fiendishly happy face on it.

“Nope. None of this is happening. You can’t convince me. There is absolutely nothing logical about this entire scenario,” the Eighth Grade Class President of St. Aperture Catholic School loudly insisted as he slogged through a river of bubbling tempera paint. “Fact: paint doesn’t flow through volcanic caverns. Fact: little creatures don’t grant wishes. Fact: I am pretty sure that waterfall,” he indicated with a point, “is flowing up, which is physically impossible. Even if you allow for the existence of magic wish-granting creatures and superheroes, it does not explain a violation of the laws of physics.”

Another happy paint blob monster leaped up at Wheatley, and he let out an undignified yelp as he pulled the floating crystal he controlled down upon the thing, splattering it. It left him colored like a bad tie-dye shirt, but it did feel good actually hitting something on his own for once. Even if he was using what appeared to be a ranged weapon as a dull blunt object. “Um, well, see it if you want to, I guess. So, you’re a magician too then, eh? Small world, isn’t it? I really had no idea you had other hobbies outside of Student Government, I assumed that took up most of your time…”

“This, um. This is actually my first time out. You know, in the hypothetical situation where this is actually happening,” Craig added, pulling his hood up further around his face. "Which it is not." His costume made him look rather like a male Red Riding Hood, Wheatley observed, though he managed not to point that out.

* * *

 

It wasn't happening, of course. Craig knew exactly where all of these dream elements were coming from. The little creature was something from a video game. In fact, so was this entire scenario. The rainbow cavern brought to mind a dungeon level from Mario, right down to jumping blobs of paint lava. Craig had read numerous books on dreams and knew they were pulled from the subconscious. This was his subconscious's way of telling him he needed to play fewer video games.

It didn't explain the presence of a classmate, though. Why would Craig dream about him? Said classmate was standing with his chest puffed out, looking rather ridiculous in a blue tuxedo and tails with a little hat but apparently more confident about the situation.

And for the life of him, Craig could not remember his name. Oh dear.

“Oh. Ohh, well, that’s okay! You’ve got me here, now, I’m a seasoned pro. I’ll guide you right through. Piece o’cake, these Witch hunts, don’t know how much Kyubey told you but he does tend to just throw a guy right into things, the little jerk. But no worries! I’ve got your back, I’ll show you the ropes.” The other boy grinned confidently. The thing Kyubey had called a Soul Gem pinged, and Craig ignored it. He knew what it meant and was a bit too confused to care.

“Well. That’s something, anyway. I would appreciate some help,” Craig admitted, stopping to try to squeeze burnt sienna out of his sleeve. His mind raced to try to remember who that kid was. He knew the taller boy went to his school. Tall and thin, particularly in comparison to Craig's short and heavyset frame, with curly hair styled back and thick-framed glasses. He'd even be cute if he could learn how to dress himself and didn't carry himself like such an awkward flamingo. The height was notable, the accent unmistakable. Tall white British kid, tall white British kid. What was his damn name?!

He swung the hammer over his shoulder casually. It should have been far too heavy for a non-athlete like Craig to carry, but in his arms it felt light as a feather. 'Gravitational magic' is what Kyubey had called it. It was only as heavy as he needed it to be. He looked back at-Walter? Willy? It was some w-name, wasn't it? Something a bit odd, too. Whitney? There were men named Whitney, right? Well, whoever the boy was, he was staring at Craig. 

“Something wrong? You’re staring at me like I have…paint on my face, right.” Craig sighed, turning down yet another tunnel. “Well, Kyubey told me this was a Witch, and if I didn’t go in to kill it, it would…” He abruptly stopped for a moment, shaking his head. “It would do something terrible, that’s all. Well, whatever, it’s all nonsense, but it’s nice to have someone I can trust. You’re, um. Wally, right?”

“Wheatley,” the taller boy answered immediately, “but you know, close! Close enough. We only have geometry together, and the same lunch period, and we were in the same homeroom last year when I transferred in and had to introduce myself and didn’t realize my uniform jacket was on inside out. So really, I’m glad you didn’t remember that!” He puffed in his chest as the two approached a door apparently drawn into a cave wall with charcoal. “Well, mate, this might be where that Witch actually is. Don’t you worry, like I said! Just hang behind ol’ Wheatley, he knows exactly what he’s doing.” He attempted to kick the ‘doors’ open, only to find that the wall was, in fact, a wall, and quite a hard one at that. It wasn’t very pleasant for his left foot, which he held with both hands. “Ow ow ow, bloody fake door! Damn Witches…”

Oh, good. He'd already managed to alienate his first possible ally. Besides, forgetting the name of a fellow student in homeroom was a terrible transgression for a member of Student Government! After silently scolding himself, Craig leaned in to where Wheatley had kicked and rubbed a hand over his chin before remembering the hand had green paint on it. “You made a good crack, though. Let me try to finish it off. It’s like a video game. Hidden doors reveal themselves when you break walls.” He took a step back, resisting the urge to hum a 'Zelda' theme. For a dream, this was actually a lot of fun. It took one long, hard swing with the hammer to smash the weak point in the door right open.   
  
"Fact: I really shouldn't be able to swing this hammer. This is too weird..."

* * *

 

Craig's shows of prowess and confidence earned a stare from Wheatley. Where was the awkward stumbling around with powers not yet understood? Craig was even less experienced than he himself was, and yet he wasn’t falling all over himself barely able to use the weapon Kyubey had given him. It made something inside of him burn a little, something deep in his guts. Of course, he reminded himself, Craig was also a good student. Not a ‘late bloomer,’ as his mother used to call him with gentle affection.

He’d long ago realized that ‘late bloomer’ was a nice way of saying ‘underachiever.’

Of course, he couldn’t let that insecurity show in front of Craig. The other boy’s face was masked and hooded, but Wheatley didn’t need to see his face to realize he was at the very least in denial. Denial could lead to panic, and panic could get them both killed. He was, very technically, the most experienced magician present, and he had volunteered to take the lead. “Well, good, good, for a start, anyway. I guess it is a little like a video game, right? I thought those big smiley things looked like the fireballs that jump out of the lava in Mario games. Right, no wasting time!” He started marching rather dramatically through the new opening, towards what he hoped was the main chamber. “Onward to _oh my gosh.”_

The main chamber was a huge hollow cavern with a conical shape, suggesting the inside of a volcano. The Witch, what he assumed had to be the Witch, filled most of the chamber with its sheer size. It resembled a child’s pastel drawing of a bee, with  a long, multicolored abdomen and entirely too many legs coming out of its thorax. Its face tilted back and forth rhythmically, and enormous wigs beat around it with a sound like thunder. A comically tiny crown sat upon its head.

**Odette**

**The Artist Witch**

Craig sputtered, pointing upwards at the Witch’s swollen body. “That is completely impossible! Something like that is impossible! Its body is too heavy to be supported! Certainly nothing with an exoskeleton can get that size! It violates the Square-Cube Law. And it shouldn’t be able to fly.”

Wheatley turned to stare at Craig, tilting his head a little. “We’re facing a giant bloody paint-bee-thing and what bothers you is that it _violates the laws of physics?”_

“Look,” Craig snapped, “if I focus on how comically impossible this situation is, I don’t think about how terrifying it is. Let me have this, okay?”

The taller boy fell quiet, suddenly feeling like a bit of a heel. Craig really was just as scared as he was, perhaps moreso, since Wheatley himself at least had seen a Witch taken down. At least he knew there was an endgame, that fights like this ended with the combatants alive and the Witch a harmless little trinket. During that first fight of his, he wasn’t sure if what he was witnessing wasn’t the end of the world.

So Craig clearly needed him to be brave, and anyway, it felt good to pretend to be courageous even if he was lying. “Don’t worry, mate, this one shouldn’t be hard! I reckon it’s C-class, maybe B-class at best-WHOA!” He sprung up in a high leap to avoid the wave of pencils the bee shot from its stinger, each one long as a spear, while Craig ran low through the paint lake bubbling beneath them. “Careful, mate! Just keep moving and don’t let up hitting it! That’s-that’ll be our strategy, yes! Hit it and don’t get hit!”

As he descended, he summoned two more crystal orbs, leaving him with three of them surrounding him. “Alright,” he mumbled to himself, “no pretty girl to help me out here, guess I’d best figure out what exactly these are meant to do…” He swept an arm forward and a spear of crystal shot out from the sphere, sweeping against the queen bee’s fat body. “Good! Good, I can in fact hit the broad side of a barn, that’s good to know…”

The bee, furious at the gash the crystal had left, turned to aim its stinger directly at Wheatley, who quite suddenly realized he was facing that stinger a few inches from his face. “Oh come ON-“ His incoming rant at the injustice of being in such a predicament was cut short by the unearthly screech of the Witch as something pummeled it from behind, slamming it into one of the walls and stunning it.

Craig dropped from his high leap and landed, with just the hint of a smile. “It shouldn’t be possible for me to jump that high,” he helpfully informed Wheatley. “But I guess I can. I knew it was a dream. You can always do impossible stuff in dreams. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Wheatley tried to hide how sore he was at being saved by the even newer guy. “Yeah, mate, I’m fine, thanks. Just biding my time! Just waiting for the perfect time to attack…”

“I think it really hates being attacked there,” Craig helpfully suggested, pointing to the back of the thorax. “It must be a weak spot. I knew this was like a video game…”

“Ah, brilliant! Good idea, we’ll concentrate on that spot when we can oh gosh it’s awake again.” Sure enough, the Witch had revived itself, hovering furiously and giving off a thunderous hum. The hum seemed to call forth those blobs from the paint itself, an entire wave of the grinning, cackling things splashing together to form a wave aimed right at Craig.

“-Oh, mate, watch out!” Without really thinking, he jumped in front of the class president, crossing his arms in front of him and just trembling as he waited for whatever came next. The hit never came, however, and when he opened his eyes, he understood why. Paint was sliding right off of a blue glass window hovering in front of him. No, not glass. It was crystal. His crystals had flattened in front of him, and reshaped themselves into their orb form now that he was safe.

“…It’s a barrier,” he marveled. “I mean, um,” he added with an awkward glance at Craig, “see that? That’s a barrier! A mighty nice shield, really. Bit of a shame you probably can’t do that, but we all have our talents and weaknesses, I’m sure you’ll figure yours out soon.”

Craig was looking a little stunned and pale, but nodded. “Thanks, Wheatley.” He had to pause to catch his breath, probably more from the shock than anything else. No one who could leap that high could get winded so easily. “Hey, listen,” he added, eyes lighting up, “I have a plan! It seems to only use projectile attacks. You can use that barrier to protect yourself and try to get it to focus fire on you, and I’ll try to hit it from behind with, well, I guess just a strong attack to finish it off…”

“Oh, yes, good plan!” Wheatley snapped in the air and beamed. “Perfect plan, wish I’d thought of it, you distract it and I-wait, you want _me_ to be the distraction?! Are you trying to get me killed?! I voted for you! I mean, no, that’s a lie, I didn’t vote because I couldn’t really decide, but I decided later I would have voted for you!”

“Calm down. You have the barrier,” Craig reminded him. “I don’t think I can do that. I’ll make sure it doesn’t get time to break through. I promise.” Something in the determination in Craig’s eyes was awfully convincing. “Just because I’m dreaming doesn’t mean I’ll let anything happen to one of my classmates.”

Wheatley wanted to refuse, to run, to hide, to admit that he really wasn’t a pro at anything and that the barrier was probably a fluke, even if he was sure he could reproduce it. But he had to admit, he didn’t have a better plan. “Okay, fine, let me just get its stupid attention…HEY!” He cupped his hands around his mouth as he called up to the Witch, and then pointed to fire a laser from one of the crystals. “Hey, you up there! Your big maze or whatever it is? Completely disgusting! I don’t know what you think you’re doing here, but I never want to see a drop of paint again for the rest of my life, thanks to you!”

It probably didn’t matter what he said, because the Witch reacted to the laser beam burning its abdomen immediately. Wheatley didn’t hesitate, forming a crystal barrier in front of him immediately before the barrage of pencils could launch. On a whim, and largely out of panic, he managed to create a second and then a third layer to his shield, wincing and trembling as he watched pencil spears crash right into the crystal and shatter. Each and every one of those pencils could impale him in seconds.

But the barrier held. This must have been his power. Appropriately for a coward, he had a nearly impenetrable shield.

“Libra Gravitation!”

Something large, hammer-shaped and immaterial came down on the Witch from behind, slamming it down with full force. Wheatley caught sight of Craig, hovering for a moment, moving his arms as if swinging an invisible hammer downwards. The creature seemed pinned down for a few seconds, and then outright exploded, splashing a veritable tsunami of paint in every direction that flooded the entire chamber, submerging both boys for a second.

Wheatley gasped for air as the flood subsided, slumping against the back wall of the store. He glanced down at Craig, who seemed just as overwhelmed, though both were completely dry and clean. Somehow, with the absurdity of the situation, he couldn’t help but laugh out loud. His laugh was obnoxious and nasal, but he didn’t care, not right now.

Even Craig chuckled a bit, covering his mouth as the two of them both reverted to their ordinary clothes. “Fact: you have to call out the names of your attacks. It's just how things are done. But that was-that was completely ridiculous! It was a boss battle from a video game, like I said. This dream is absolutely ridiculous.” He leaned against the wall and sighed, holding his hand out where a red Soul Gem gleamed. “Completely ridiculous! I’ve been working too hard, I think…” He looked up at Wheatley. “Oh, thanks, by the way. I’m really glad you were there to help.”

Wheatley had stopped laughing, and as much as he hated himself for it, what Craig had just admitted distracted him. Again, Craig seemed to know his magic intuitively. He was able to cast some kind of gravity spell on his first time out, when it took Wheatley several battles to even realize he had a shield. A damn barrier. In fact, in both of the fights he’d had against Witches, he’d needed someone else to help him.

Late bloomer.

“Uh, right,” he added quickly, sounding a little distracted. “Anytime, mate. Actually, you know what? I’m going to contact someone soon to get some more information about this whole gig, I can pass on her information if you want. They say she’s a real pro, even more experienced than I am, might be able to help you out.” He reached into his backpack and tore off a piece of notebook paper, and copied the e-mail address Rita had given him. “Up to you, of course…”

Chell would have to wait, that was all. Glados could actually help him, and then he’d actually be able to help Chell.

Craig accepted the e-mail without commentary, looking distracted himself as he bent down to pick up a small object. “Hey, um, what is this?”

Wheatley recognized the Grief Seed and slapped his forehead. “Oh, that! How could I forget about that? We need those to keep our little, um, what is it, Gem Crystals or whatever they’re called clean, I guess. Not sure why, but it’s important! So if you don’t mind…“ He was about to ask Craig to hand it over, when he remembered what Chell did for him after his first fight.

She really wouldn't approve of him keeping it to himself. If he could tell her later how he helped a newbie, and one with more skill and a better GPA than himself no less, how proud she'd be of him!

“Um, you know what, mate? You can have it. Just tap it to your Gem until all the shadowy stuff goes away. It just gets that way when we exert ourselves. I’ll…” He glanced at his own Gem, which looked a little dimmer than it did before, and quickly clasped his hand around it so he didn’t have to look at it. “I’ll be just fine, okay?”

“Are you sure?” Craig seemed to pick up on the process relatively quickly, the smudge fading from his red Gem. Then he looked up at Wheatley, that pointed, serious look back in his eyes. “Hey, thanks. I mean it. I still think this is probably a weird dream, but it’s nice that I had someone to help me out through it. That shop, my family owns it, so…yeah, thanks. I’m sorry I never learned your name.”

Wheatley rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, it’s fine, mate, you’re hardly the only one. I guess I’ll see you at school on Monday? Or, you know, sooner, if we talk to that person…”

“Um, yeah, sure.” Craig nodded, voice a little dull now, and started to walk off as if in a daze. Poor guy, Wheatley thought, it’s all hitting him, isn’t it?

A memory flickered of endless waves of spears, crashing against a weakening barrier, each large enough to impale him through and keep going.

His adrenaline drained, Wheatley shuddered and leaned against the wall as he remembered the giant monster, the nightmarish tree, Kyubey’s unblinking gaze. He held his Soul Gem to his chest to calm himself and slow his heartbeat as it all hit _him._

* * *

 

“Mom?” Craig did his best to steady his own voice as he entered the store, trying to pretend nothing was wrong. “Dad? Someone’s in here, right? Since it’s unlocked…”

It was awfully quiet, but he could see the door to the back room open. It sounded like his mother was on the phone, and there was something off in her voice. His dad was behind the counter, and as Craig approached, the big man wiped a hand from his eyes as if to hide crying.

“-Dad? Dad, what’s wrong?! Is Kevin…?”

“The hospital just called. He made a full recovery, practically overnight. It’s some kind of miracle.” His father half-laughed, half-cried and picked Craig right up in a hug. “He’s going to be okay…!”

And only then, in his father’s embrace, as he overheard his mother crying tears of joy as she called aunts and uncles, did Craig really suspect that any of this was real.

* * *

 

Chell had managed to get home early enough that she had actual time to spend with her mom, but the woman was still a little distant. _She knows me too well,_ she thought. _She always knew when something was up, except now I can’t tell her about it._ Marie had enough to deal with anyway, with…well, Dad. Or the lack of Dad. 

Marie had hugged her and asked her about her day, and Chell made up a story about helping a girl named Alice find her way back to the subway station. They shared the small pineapple cake she’d picked up from a bakery, and watched one of those idol shows together, but she was sure Marie could feel the same discomfort she did. The coming home late, the reports of missing the occasional class or skipping school, surely Marie had to know about them.

_She probably thinks I’m acting out because of Dad._

In her room that night, she pulled up that boy’s e-mail address and stared at an empty e-mail window. ‘Hey, listen, I’m sorry that-‘ Delete. ‘Hey, look, I know this is scary, but-‘ Delete. ‘Hey, I don’t know how much you know about any of this, but-‘ Delete.

‘Hey. It’s Chell.’

She hit send, feeling like a complete idiot, and not just because of her poor communication skills. What exactly was she doing? Drawing another person into her web of disasters? Glados was venomous, but at least magicians who worked by her side stayed alive. Chell just sucked people in to her tornado of a life until they were thrown out the other side, leaving her alone again. It was just what happened.

What a stupid goddamn wish.

A little icon flashed, indicating a new message in her inbox. She anticipated the boy’s overly wordy, clumsily-typed reply full of tangents and rambling or worse, gratitude and admiration, but that wasn’t his e-mail. No, she knew who that was.

_Hey Disaster Girl, just wanted to let you know that I’m going to be presenting some very important information to anyone who wants it a week from Sunday, through a demonstration. I’ve even extended the courtesy of an invitation to you, which I am sure you’re aware that you do not deserve. Because you are a monster. Come if you want or don’t, I don’t care, but I wouldn’t miss this. It's going to be great. I think you'll love the surprise._

_-G_

* * *

 

“You want your worst enemy to see your experiment? How bold,” Kyubey remarked as he sat on Glados’s shoulder.

                She just chuckled, rubbing the soft fur between his ears with a finger. “It’s rude to read over people’s shoulders, Kyubey. Here you go, hot chocolate.” She reached over to the takeout container next to her, pulling out a small paper cup and lifting the cover for him.

                Kyubey beamed as much as he ever did, leaping down and lapping up whipped cream with his tongue. “Delicious! Oh, your courier is here.”

                “I ain’t your courier, rat,” Rita hissed as she landed on the roof, tossing a black object Glados’s way. “Here, it’s what you asked for. Goddamn, coulda sworn there were three Witches in the area in one day, I had my damn pick. What’s with the frequency lately? I got other things to do sometimes!” She stretched and yawned. “Well, whatever. More fun for me! But I keep the next Seed, okay?”

                “Of course, of course.” Glados caught the Grief Seed and used it to clear the shadows from her Gem until it shone brilliant white, tossing the empty shell for Kyubey to retrieve as he always did. “Anyway, I suspect we’ll be seeing a new Witch Saturday night, if my calculations are correct and no one interferes with that Familiar by Broad Street. Or you know, kill it while it’s still a Familiar, if you feel like playing hero.” She raised an eyebrow, and Rita looked a little uncomfortable for a moment. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Whatever, it’s all yours either way, I have work to do.”

                “Right, right.” Rita rubbed the back of her neck, looking out on the cityscape and shivering a little. “Man, it’s getting cold! Are you really gonna spend the whole night up here? I mean, at least find a hotel room or something. I don’t want you to freeze or nothin’…be a shoddy bodyguard or knight or whatever if I let a lady freeze.”

                Oh, she thought, that’s right. It’s probably cold for people who can still feel that.

                “Thanks for the concern, but really, I’m fine. Mind your own business, Rita.” She handwaved to dismiss the girl in green, who just snorted and took off again. Late November. She could at least remember the feel of early winter winds, even if she hadn’t felt them in such a long time.

                It was all worth it. Anything was worth living forever.


	5. "They'll ruin you."

“Why are you looking so blue?” Kyubey might have been cracking a joke, as the blue light of the Soul Gem was illuminating his face as he sat on the desk. He leaned over to sip from the dish of milk Wheatley had given him, and if he were insulted at being thought of like a cat, he showed no sign.

Wheatley sighed and stared into reheated shrimp fried rice. “Well, it's kind of you to show concern. I don’t know, it’s just, that other kid, he was moving about like he was some kind of natural. And Chell and Rita, they fight like experts. I could attribute their skill to experience, but Craig is as new as I am! Newer! So what’s wrong with me, then?”

Kyubey tilted his head. “Different kinds of magic work different ways. Craig hasn’t worked out all of his powers yet, either. Besides, he was able to put his fear aside because he’d convinced himself the situation was not real. You humans are very odd sometimes, able to lie to yourselves and believe it.” He swallowed another mouthful of milk and licked his lips. “Even I can’t fully control how magic manifests itself in people. It forms according to your personality, your nature, and your desires, and it can be shaped by your wish.”

“Barriers, is it…” Wheatley stared at his hand. “Well, hardly epic or heroic, but I guess it’ll keep me alive.”

“That’s probably why you have defensive magic, then!” Kyubey flicked his tail. “You’re a coward who is afraid of getting hurt, so you manifested a power to protect your body. You can learn how to use it offensively too, to hurt an enemy rather than slow it down.”

Not particularly hungry, Wheatley set the fried rice aside, making a mental note to put it back in the fridge. “You really aren’t very good at cheering a fellow up, mate. Although I guess it did keep me alive, so I should be thankful of that.” He sighed, picking up the Soul Gem. “Is this really all magic is good for, though? Fighting things? I thought, you know, I could use it to create illusions, do spectacular things, cure my nearsightnedness…”

“You could fix your eyes,” Kyubey interrupted.

That got his attention, and he sat back up straight. “What, really? I’ve been nearsighted since, well, since as long as I can remember! There’s pictures of me as a toddler with glasses. I know they have that laser surgery business, but I didn’t think I could get it until I was an adult, and it’s expensive anyway.” He felt guilty enough about attending a school as nice as St. Aperture, but his parents had written in their will that his inheritance be used to help him attend a good school.

“Magic can be used for all kinds of things, although if you overuse it, your Soul Gem will darken quickly. You can use it to cure your body’s illnesses and repair damage.” A strange way to put it, Wheatley thought, but it was Kyubey. He might think of wounds as 'damage.' “Major uses of magic require you to transform, but something as simple as fixing myopia and astigmatism shouldn’t take too much. I’m surprised you haven’t tried already.”

Wheatley eagerly picked up the blue gem, trying to command it with his mind. Its light flared for a moment, and some of that same light shone into his eyes while he felt the curious sensation of static in his brain. When the light cleared, his vision was distorted and twisted as if looking through a funhouse mirror, and the dissonance was rapidly giving him a headache.

“What, I-did you trick me?! Did I do this wrong? Bloody magic. Now my eyes are _broken_ , aren't they?…”

“Try taking off your glasses,” Kyubey suggested.

Wheatley was still for a second, and then laughed awkwardly. “Knew that! I knew that. I was just making a joke. Of course.” Once he removed the glasses his eyes no longer needed, his vision cleared, better and sharper than it had ever been before even when he’d worn glasses. He held his hand out in front of his eyes and then gazed around the room, marveling. “…Tremendous. Bloody tremendous! You know how much the surgery to fix that costs? And the gem’s only a little bit smudgier, you can barely tell! I mean, I had better hope for a Witch in the next few days, but even so…” He laughed again, images of the violent battle from before finally fading from his mind. “This is good. This is really good. I mean I had my doubts, but this is amazing stuff. Can I really change anything about myself? Make myself look a little better, maybe try to ensure I start growing at a normal rate instead of like a corn stalk…”

“Don’t worry about growing. It won’t be a problem.” Kyubey’s answer was a bit cryptic, but Wheatley was a bit too enamoured of his new power to care.

“I mean, I’m not even tired! You've got to understand mate, I had no idea anything like this existed. Fight a few monsters in return? Sure! I bet it's fun once you get the hang of it. I just won't die. That's all. Just won't die. It’s fine, I handled a few already. I can handle anything else they throw at me…"

“Good! That will keep you alive.” Kyubey didn’t comment on Wheatley’s surge of confidence, as expected, and leaped off into a shadow again. The boy was preoccupied with marveling at his reflection in the mirror, glasses-free.

"Yes! Yes. You know, I really do think I'm better this way. If you hate the way you are, why not change it?"

* * *

It was raining the day of his meeting with 'Glados', the kind of cold, clammy rain of early winter. The so-called White Queen still insisted on meeting outside in the park, where it smelled like decaying leaves. Wheatley pulled his jacket tightly around himself and shivered, his sneakers covered in mud. Beside him, Craig sneezed, half-buried in a rain coat. “Thanks again for the help the other day,” the latter said, as a form of greeting.

“Oh, uh, no problem, mate,” Wheatley answered, distracted by his own discomfort. Couldn’t this White Court meet in a parking garage, or somewhere dry?

“I knew you were lying about all the expert stuff, but it’s okay.”

“Wait, what?!” Wheatley flushed red, looking at Craig with a mixture of indignation and horror. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know.” Craig sounded distracted now, looking downwards. “I can tell when something is factual or a lie now. It’s like something flickers in my head, and I think it makes my Gem light up if someone lies, too. Kyubey said it was part of my magic. You were setting my detector off like whoa. It’s okay, though. You were probably lying to help me feel better. Just please don't lie again.”

“Wasn’t lying.”

Something red flashed in Craig’s hands. “See? Lie.”

“…Fine.” Wheatley didn’t want to say much else on the topic, though he made a mental note to be careful about any kind of boasting around Craig in the future. A leaf blew past his face, and he shivered. “You know, I half wonder if they made us wait out here as a prank. They’re all inside eating cake and laughing because they’re watching us shiver on a webcam, like some kind of hazing ritual. Oh, let’s see how long they’ll stand out there in the bloody rain! I’ll catch a cold, and I’ll have to fight a Witch with a cold, unless I can cure that now…”

“Don’t worry,” a flat voice reassured him from behind. “catching a cold would be the least of your problems.” Wheatley startled and spun around, looking down to where a girl stood about a head below him, eerie golden eyes peering out from beneath a head of long white hair. Her skin was pale to the point of appearing sickly, and though she appeared no older than they, the look in her eyes somehow didn't fit her age. She was wearing a raincoat, too, but he could see something white and glowing inside one of her hands.

“…White Queen?”

“The same. That’s just a nickname, though. You can call me Glados, which is another nickname, because I’m not telling you my real name. You don’t deserve it.” ‘Glados’ paused to apply what looked like cherry lip gloss before continuing, seemingly unconcerned about the effect the pouring rain was having on the two boys. “Wheatley Johnson, Craig Wilson, am I correct?”

“Uh, yeah,” Wheatley answered, while Craig just nodded. Both stared at the petite girl in the yellow and white raincoat as she set up a small white umbrella and a small plastic tarp, sat herself down cross-legged beneath the umbrella, and pulled out a notebook computer.

“I don’t want to get it wet,” she explained.

“Yes, wouldn’t want to get _wet._ That would be terrible. Wouldn’t it, Craig?”

“Did you bring another umbrella, by any chance?” Craig didn’t sound very hopeful on that front.

“No.” The White Queen typed for a few moments, and then looked up at the two boys again, still sitting down. “Okay, let me explain myself. I call the magicians who work with me the White Court, though that’s really just a formality, a way of identifying ourselves. You’re a magician, and you can easily mess up, and if you mess up, you’ll die. Period. I know, because I’ve seen lots of us die in the past. But if you listen to me, and do as I say, and follow my advice, you’re much more likely to live longer because my research will keep you alive.”

“So you’re something like a teacher, then?” Craig had his hands open and his Soul Gem exposed, and Wheatley caught on just what the other boy was doing. If there was a flash of light, it meant she was lying. “This is a class for magicians.”

“Not exactly, but if it makes sense to you that way, you can think of it like that. Kyubey finds us and makes contracts with us, and just leaves us to make do from there. He gives advice sometimes, but there are a lot of things he won’t tell you unless he has to, because he’s a little jerk. I’ve been at this for a while, however, and I’ve learned plenty of things, both through research and field experience.”

Wheatley was skeptical of this somehow. How could she be so experienced if she was the same age they were? Chell was something of a veteran but she seemed only slightly less in the dark than he. He glanced to Craig’s Gem, however, seeing no sign of a flicker. Truth, if the Gem was to be trusted.

“In fact, to show how confident I am in my own knowledge, I’ll give you a trial lesson. You don’t even need to join up with me. I’ll just ask for some payment afterwards. Nothing dire, no money or anything, just a favor for a favor.” Glados glanced up at the two over her laptop, expression unreadable. “Or you can take your chances stumbling over yourselves learning on the field and hoping the little space rat decides to tell you what to do before you die. Up to you, no skin off my back.”

Wheatley gave a questioning shrug at Craig, who just shook his head. “It’s up to you,” the latter said, “although for what it’s worth, she seems to be telling the truth so far.”

He remembered Chell’s warning, that being Glados’s ally would make him Chell’s enemy. But this wasn’t an official alliance, not yet. This was just a trial run. And he really needed to know something about what was happening to him, something beyond the little tidbits of information Kyubey would occasionally offer. He hungered for knowledge, and knowledge would make his magic stronger. It would make him stronger. Strong enough to be of use to Chell.

“Well, alright, just one little trial lesson, nothing binding, right? I mean, what harm can it do?” Wheatley shrugged, managing his most casual smile.

“Good.” Glados smiled like a cat with a mouse in its mouth, and stood back up. “It’s something you’re going to want to know about. You,” she indicated Wheatley, “with the stupid puppy expression. Hold up your Soul Gem.”

 “What, like this?” He held his Gem in his palm for them all to see, its blue light pulsing beneath just a touch of shadow. It was a bit murky, he noticed, but probably fine. Glados pulled his hand down to examine it, and nodded to herself.

“Good, not too much shadow. One Grief Seed and you should be fine for a while. So you know about maintaining it, anyway. I’m about to show you why. Kyubey probably made you think that it’s the source of your magic, right?”

“Isn’t it something like that?” Craig was looking into his Gem now, which still didn’t indicate any lies as far as Wheatley could tell. “I still think all of this magic stuff is impossible, but I woke up this morning and my brother was still okay again, and I still had this. So it must be true, which means I just have to rethink what’s a fact and a lie. But Kyubey said I needed to keep this by my side if I want to keep my magic.”

“He wasn’t lying, just omitting information.” Glados rolled her eyes, the sarcasm in her voice clashing with her youthful appearance, and turned back to Wheatley. “You look like you have a good throwing arm. I want you to throw your Gem as far as you can, towards that pile of leaves over there.” She pointed to a heap of fallen leaves, sodden in the rain.

“Wait, wait, I was told to take good care of this!” Wheatley hesitated, clinging to his Gem. “Won’t it break or something if I throw it? Oh, wait. This is a test, right? You're supposed to order me to do something silly and I'm not supposed to do it to prove I've got good sense! Clever, very clever.”

“It’s a lot more durable than you think, trust me. Just throw it as far as you can towards the leaf pile, and then start walking the opposite way. You’ll get the point soon enough.” Glados crossed her arms. “And don’t take too long, okay?”

“Fine, fine, lady, fine. You’re a really bossy teacher, you know that?” Wheatley had never been very good at throwing things, but with this new body, perhaps he might be able to show off a bit. He mimicked a pitcher at a ball game, throwing his blue Gem as it landed just short of the leaf pile. It was thankfully intact, as far as he could tell from that distance.

“Right, just like that. Now start walking in the opposite direction and keep at it until I tell you to stop.”

Agreeing, Wheatley started sloshing through the muddy grass away from the Gem, mumbling to himself. “Still don’t see the point of this, I half suspect you’re just making us do things to see if we’ll do them, for your own jollies, just making a fool of the lads! If Craig there didn’t have an instant lie detector I’d swear that was the case. Here I was at least hoping you’d teach me how to make my outfit a little cooler, or do some neat kind of flashy attack like Craig did, or…!”

Wheatley's world went dark.

* * *

 

It wasn’t like waking up. There was the sensation of air rushing back into his lungs, and the world coming back into focus, his heart beating faster than it should and his whole body tingling and numb. He coughed in shock, still lying on the ground, an echo in his ears fading into the sound of Craig in panic.

“…did you do? What the HELL did you do?!” Craig was kneeling next to him, hands shaking, holding one of Wheatley’s wrists. “He was! You were! You just!”

“Calm down.” That was Glados’s voice. “At least give the moron some breathing room. He’ll be fine.” She peered down to face Wheatley, who was still on his side. “Do you really just do anything anyone tells you to do? That’s not a good way to go through life.”

“You said I had to do it for the lesson.” Wheatley’s voice was dull and he still felt lightheaded, sitting up slowly and dimly aware of the fact that he was covered in mud. “Did I pass out? It just suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe, all the air sucked out of my lungs, and I thought maybe it was asthma which I don’t have, and then I didn’t…think anything.” His Soul Gem was back by his side again, glowing and intact.

“You were.” Craig took a deep breath, and Wheatley noticed the smudges around the other boys’ eyes. “You were _dead.”_

“…What?”

“Dead. You just fell over all at once, and I grabbed your hand to check your pulse, and it was cold. No pulse, no breathing, pupils dilated. You. Were. Dead.” Craig staggered back, looking nauseous. “This is a lie, it has to be, why isn’t it flickering? You can’t be here now. Whatever just happened, it killed you…!”

Wheatley, struck into rare silence, stared down at his hand and reached for his pulse. It was there, as usual, a little accelerated from what he guessed was shock. Then he turned to Glados, eyes still wide, still silent.

“It’s fine,” the girl said indifferently, back at her laptop. “Go ahead and freak out. Everyone does at first. You get used to the idea after a while. Just keep your Soul Gem next to your body and don’t think about it.”

That wasn’t enough for Craig, who marched over to the white-haired girl. “What. Did. You. Do?!”

“Nothing. I did absolutely nothing. I just told him to separate his Soul Gem from his body. When the Gem is too far away, it can’t control the body, so that happens.” Glados sighed through her nose. “Look, I’ll lay it out for you in nice, simple terms, because frankly there’s no delicate way to deliver the news. That,” she said as she pointed at the blue Soul Gem, “is you. That,” she pointed up to Wheatley, who still felt a bit queasy, “is your body, which you control.”

Both boys stared at Glados with a mixture of confusion and horror, and she continued. “When you contracted with Kyubey, he sucked your mind and soul out of your body and put it in a Gem. He didn’t mention this because as lovable as he can be, he is horrible, and also because people tend to react to the premise the way you’re reacting now, by looking like you need to throw up.”

It was a pretty sharp assessment of his reaction, Wheatley noted.

“So what are we?” Craig stared at his hands. “We don’t have souls anymore? They’re in our…is that why they’re called…oh God, how is this even possible? You’re lying, right…?” He stared down at his own Gem, and Wheatley only had to watch Craig’s face to know that it wasn’t a lie.

“So,” the taller boy finally managed, “we’re dead…?”

“No,” Glados snapped, “we are not dead, nor are we zombies or anything. We’re just different. You noticed you were stronger and more durable now, right, and that you can sometimes alter your body or heal it? That’s because it’s basically a puppet you’re controlling from your Gem. You’re seeing and feeling out of it, and it can eat and sleep, but your life’s in that Gem. You’ll never again contract an illness, and you could be torn limb from limb and be revived as long as your Gem’s intact. You could lose every drop of blood and you'll be fine.” She smiled for the first time since their conversation started. “You’re not dead. You’re immortal, if you play your cards right.”

“And bodies in stasis don’t grow, right? And if we lose our Gems, we die and rot. And more importantly…” Wheatley’s hands shook. “This isn’t what I bloody wanted! When I thought about changing, becoming someone else, this isn’t what I meant!” His voice was cracking, and he didn’t care. “I don’t want to be immortal! I don’t want all this strength and speed and whatnot if it means I’m a bloody soul in a jar like some kind of monster!” He staggered back, leaning against a tree for balance. “It’s monstrous, isn’t it? It’s monstrous…”

Craig didn’t take his eyes off of his Gem. “Science hasn’t even proven the existence of the soul or any kind of life force. A body is a body, that’s all. It shouldn’t be possible to…oh, I give up. What do I tell my parents when they notice I’m not aging or growing anymore? How do I explain this to them? They’ll notice, parents notice things…”

“You don’t explain it. I think it's possible to alter the body to age it, but it strikes me as pointless. Frankly you’ll be lucky if you survive in this business long enough for people to notice. By the way, Kyubey wouldn’t have told you otherwise. Some mages have lived and died without ever knowing they were basically walking corpses.” Nothing about Glados’s  voice was remotely reassuring, but the sneer was gone, at least. “You walk around like a human, feel like a human, have a much stronger pain tolerance and physical capabilities, and you’ll never catch anything from kissing or whatever.” She made a disgusted face. “You know, a lot of people would give their souls to be a super teenager. Anyway, I’ll leave you to deal with this new information, but I’ll mention one more thing. People who work for me know a lot more than those who run around ignorant. I trade in information, and information will keep you alive. Well, as alive as any of us are.”

She stood and picked up the laptop, holding the umbrella back over her head. “Wait,” she added, “one mooore thing. I mentioned payment, right? Both of you bring me one Grief Seed sometime in the upcoming week. You can find me on the roof of the St. Aperture gymnasium, or you can just e-mail me if you want to meet up somewhere else, but I need those Grief Seeds. If you don’t pay up, you’ll really regret it.” She turned around to leave, shoes sloshing in the mud. “Think about my offer, though. Membership is a good idea.”

The two boys were left in the rain, Wheatley slumped against the tree, Craig kneeling now and still staring into his Gem. “It doesn’t make any sense. No one should be able to do that.” The class president’s voice was shaking. “What does this mean for us?” He laughed, though it was hoarse and sad. “You know what my wish was, too? I wished for my brother to have a good future so he could become an astronaut or whatever it was he wanted to be when he grew up. I wanted to make sure he lived to grow up. Since he was always sick and…” The red light glinted against the gray of the rainy sky. “I’d say I traded one future for another, but there’s no such thing as predetermined fate. I-it’s worth it, I’m sure. It’ll be okay.” He choked back a sob, and then looked over at Wheatley. “What about you? What did you wish for? Do you think it’s worth it, now…?”

Wheatley was silent for a very long time. He thought of Chell’s eyes, the determination in her gaze that drew him in the first place, the way he felt like more of a fool around her, and the way she seemed to pull him in only to push him away. How inscrutable she was in her own way, quiet when he was too talkative, graceful when he was a clumsy oaf, everything he wished he was in ways that left him as confused and jealous as intrigued. He imagined the sight of his own body, lifeless, dull eyes half-open as his entire soul, mind, his very SELF sat in a tiny blue jar.

“I don’t know, mate. I don’t know. I think I need to get back, you know, before we catch cold. Well, you know, except that we won’t catch cold because our bodies aren’t…well, you know.” He walked off in the rain, wrapping his arms around his chest, for once glad to feel the wet chill. The dead couldn’t feel cold, after all.

* * *

 

The Witch was fond of the ocean, apparently. Sure, the ocean was pink in this case, and the fish had entirely too many eyes. The starfish minions each had little hands extending from their arms, which grabbed at Chell as she descended from a portal to aim her gun at the clamshell hiding the Witch.

It didn’t feel like she was underwater. She’d entered labyrinths that felt like swimming through mud, but although the sky shimmered like the surface of the ocean, and the familiars swam in the air, gravity worked normally for her. It was just as well. Unfortunately, the Witch itself kept hiding inside of its clamshell every time she had a clear shot.

A hand grabbed at her hair and she screamed, whipping around to fire a shot of light right at the eye in the starfish’s core. The familiar screeched and burst into bubbles, but the attack brought the attention of several more of them. She leaped up into a portal to escape an attack from all sides, landing closer to the big clam just as it started to open. Finally, a chance to get a shot in at the Witch itself…

“Hold on, hold on, I’ve got it…!”

Oh no.

Some kind of blue force was pushing against the inside of the clam, trying to jam it open. Unfortunately, this had the opposite effect, as the clam slammed itself shut in reaction and sent shattered pieces of crystal flying everywhere. As Chell knew she’d see, a lanky figure in blue was sent flying from the blowback, clinging to a piece of seaweed which then wrapped around him and began to squeeze.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me! Seaweed’s not even predatory, you bloody stupid Witch! This is just the WORST! DAY! To DEAL with you and if I did not need a Grief Seed so badly, I swear…!”

Of course, it made sense. There were so many magicians concentrated in this one area of the city for some reason, they’d often end up fighting the same Witch without planning to do so. That was how she'd ended up teaming up with Alice the other day. At least she knew Wheatley wouldn’t try to attack her for the Seed, but just having him around would make the battle more difficult unless she ignored his welfare. And she knew she couldn’t do that.

It would have made Caroline upset.

Even watching him was a distraction she could hardly afford. She felt something loom over her, one of the enormous kelp fronds, no doubt hoping to ensnare her, too. Whipping around to fire a hole into it, she jumped back in alarm when the Familiar sprouted razor-sharp spikes along the leaf’s edge before splattering.

_Oh no._

Her head whipped around back to Wheatley, but she was already too late. The boy’s body was limp inside of the seaweed frond, blood dripping from the edges of the leaves as the spines impaled him through. He’d died before she’d even been able to do anything. It was what she’d feared: Kyubey had drawn another innocent in over his head, for whatever reason that creature did anything, and she’d just had to watch another rookie die.

Unless.

She formed a portal, leaping through it to appear next to the frond that had Wheatley’s body in its grasp. Firing off a series of light shots, she was able to shred the kelp Familiar, rushing to catch Wheatley’s body as it fell towards the sand. It was hard to look at, soaked in blood, and hard to carry due to his height, but what she was looking for was still there. The jewel hanging from a chain on his belt was intact.

“Hold on,” she whispered, opening a portal just one way, and shutting it behind her.

Inside she floated in the strange pocket dimension Kyubey once called “the space between spaces,” though she suspected it was more than that. Usually the trip from one portal to another was so quick, she rarely had a chance to see what was in between. But she learned she could do this, stay there in that space for a little while, floating in a plane of nothingness where geometric figures bent in ways that made no sense to the human mind with angles that shouldn’t have existed. The space seemed to exist endlessly in any direction, and sometimes she heard echoes too indistinguishable to make out coming from all sides. She didn’t enjoy spending time in the subspace plane, but there was no place safer.

As she hoped, touching the jewel on Wheatley’s wrist turned it back into its Soul Gem form, which she held against his wounded chest. It would take a lot of magic, and she hoped he had enough; his Gem was a little darker than before. Tendrils of blue light extended from the Gem to wrap his body, closing wounds, replenishing blood and even repairing his magician garb. The Gem had a darker smudge to it when it had finished, but Wheatley was intact again, slowly opening his eyes.

“Oh…it’s you, isn’t it? I had a terrible nightmare, we were fighting a Witch, and I thought that…” Wheatley stopped, trailing off and gazing at the Gem as he took it back into his own hands, and then looking back at Chell. Those eyes were still as wide and innocent as ever, but there was something a little fractured behind them, hollow and sad, just like the smudge of shadow in vivid blue light.

“Body can take anything, long as the Soul Gem’s intact. That’s what she told us when we went to go see her. Guess she was right! Bloody brilliant on Kyubey’s part, isn’t it? Giving us better bodies by taking us out of them…?” He was smiling, but it wasn’t convincing in the least, and there were tears in the corner of his eyes.

So that was it. He’d gone to visit Glados, and as was the White Queen’s favorite hobby, she’d broken the innocence of a new magician on the ground with the ugly truth. Glados never did see much use for innocence. It was Caroline all over again, in a different way. Chell was going to watch an idealist slowly crumble until her smile was just a mask.

Not this time.

“Say, where are we?” Wheatley sounded a little weakened still, and Chell suggested he hadn’t fully recovered yet. “I was sure this Witch had some kind of ‘under the sea’ theme going on. You know, like the Disney movie? Only hideous and nightmarish. Say, do you know her?”

Chell did a double-take. “Who?”

“Her.” Wheatley pointed behind them, to a place where a vertical plane seemed to run perpendicular to their own, its surface shimmering. “I could have sworn I saw someone there. She was walking around at a funny angle and wearing purple. Don't think she heard me. Huh. We should get back to the Witch, what say, and you explain this to me later? It can’t be worse news than I’ve gotten so far. Sure I’m past the worst of it.” It still didn’t sound very convincing, but either way, hiding in a dimensional pocket wouldn’t defeat a Witch. She took his hand and opened up her exit portal, pulling them both out into the labyrinth.

* * *

 

As their surroundings warped back into the parking garage where the Witch had manifested, Chell dusted sand out of her hair and looked back to Wheatley. He’d actually been of some use during the battle, thanks to those barriers he’d learned how to make, although she still had to do a lot of the heavy lifting. She didn’t want to give him a hard time about it today, however. When she’d learned what had been done with her, she’d spent hours throwing up and crying, holed up in her room while her mother thought she’d taken ill. She didn’t want to think of what it was doing to Wheatley, or whoever else Glados had shattered with her little ‘lesson.’

Not that she could exactly blame Glados. Was it better to live knowing the truth or die without it?

“Hey, um.” Wheatley had been oddly quiet during the battle, at least for him, but now he approached her again. Sure enough, there was no sign of the damage his body had taken earlier in the fight. As long as the Soul Gem was intact, the body could be healed. “Thank you. You saved my life, you know? Again. I mean, I know my body can be ‘repaired’ no matter what, but I couldn’t exactly repair it if I was the one bleedin’ out.” He glanced away, a bit of redness in his cheeks. “Look, I know I’m a burden to you, I’m really no good at this. And it’s my fault, really, no matter who else I try to blame. I agreed to the wish and the contract and the whole casserole without thinking about it for a second because I thought it had to be some kind of wild dream. And because I was all lightheaded over you, which isn’t your fault! It’s mine! And now...well, anyway, what I’m saying is that I won’t keep chasing after you like a lost puppy.”

Chell held her hand up, finally silencing him, and picked up the Grief Seed. She held it to his Soul Gem until the light glowed pure and blue again, the shadow extracted, and looked directly up at him.

She couldn’t let Glados win again. She couldn’t watch another Caroline shatter. If this boy really was in this mess because of her, because of Chell’s own foolish wish, let her at least save one victim of her selfishness.

“Don’t join the White Court. I know it sounds safer, but they’ll ruin you.” She reached up to hold his wrist, eyes still staring into his own. “We’ll get stronger together, as long as I can count on you when it gets bad for me, too. Okay?”

Wheatley stared at her for a few moments, barely even noticing as his magician’s outfit reverted to a soaked sweater and jacket. Then he smiled, and although the shadow was still there behind his eyes, it seemed less overpowering now. A crack was still there, but it was healing.

“…Thanks. I think I’d like that! I mean, you’re in charge, of course. You’re the pro. I tried being the pro the other day, didn’t work so well. I was just on my way home when I detected a Witch, and honestly I knew I could have used one of those Seeds, thank you for that too by the way. And a bit of an outlet for some bad feelings, too! Which, unfortunately, are still kind of there, but you being there and saving my life has put me in a better mood. But you can count on me. Promise I’ll get stronger and I won’t be a burden anymore, I promise!”

He turned to walk away in an exaggerated attempt at being casual, but Chell noticed his posture slump when he thought he was out of sight. She missed that genuine goofy grin of his, and then hated herself for it, because she knew the same thing Glados knew. If he hadn’t learned the awful truth, that endearing innocence would have gotten him killed. She just wouldn’t let the truth break him.

* * *

 

“Are you mad at me, Craig?”

Craig refused to look at Kyubey, instead concentrating on his laptop. “I have homework to do. I can’t talk to you right now.” The best way to cope with a completely horrifying situation was to deny it entirely and focus on a project due in two weeks.

“It’s foolish to be mad at me.” Kyubey refused to leave Craig’s bed, curling up on one of the pillows. “Your brother will be fine, just like you asked. A wish that alters reality imbalances the universe, and reality moves to compensate for it. So it’s possible your long-term future might have been sacrificed so he can have one. Then again, that may not be the case at all. Nothing can be made out of nothing. Surely you know that.”

“Law of conservation of mass, I know.” Craig typed and continued to fail at ignoring Kyubey. “What are you getting at? I can’t do anything about my situation, and I’m in it now, so there’s no point in being angry, and I am absolutely not angry.” His Gem flashed brightly. “Damn it.”

“Your wish probably won’t affect more than you or your family, but someone has made a wish so imbalancing that it will threaten the entire city within the next year. I’m telling you because you have your head on straight. Do with that information what you will.”

“What?!” Craig stopped his typing and turned slowly towards the bed, but Kyubey, having said his piece, was gone.


	6. "You didn't ask."

Wheatley dreamed of Kyubey. It was quite inconvenient for someone hoping a good dream would let him forget the nightmares of the day.

They were both sitting at a table in the middle of an underground room full of wires. Panels in the walls shifted, and from time to time something metallic with a great blue eye would peer down at him through the screen in one of the panels, saying nothing. Wheatley was in some kind of jumper, and Kyubey had a little collar around his neck. For some reason, they were drinking tea.

“Sometimes it’s easier to have a conversation in a dream,” Kyubey explained. “I wonder what the significance of the setting is? Sometimes dreams can tap into the collective unconscious. Then again, maybe it’s just from a movie you saw once.”

Wheatley thought at first of sitting and saying nothing, just glaring at the little creature, but it didn’t seem to make the dream end any faster. Besides, the metal eye on the wall was just staring at him in a way that made him even more uncomfortable. At least words would fill the silence. “Okay, well, sure, to start with. WHAT THE HELL, MATE!?” He reached over the table to grab and rattle Kyubey, whose expression didn’t change. “You killed me! You bloody killed me and then I died twice today and you didn’t even tell me! That is not fair, not fair at all! You should warn a guy before you do that! You didn't tell me if I made a Contract with you, I'd die.”

“You didn’t ask.” Kyubey wriggled out of Wheatley’s hands and slipped down onto the table, lapping up mint tea. “And telling you would have just upset you. But tell me, Wheatley, do you think you could have survived even your first fight with a clumsy, fragile body?”

Wheatley bit his lip. “Wasn’t so fragile,” he muttered. "I think it was just fine as it was. I mean, tall. Little pudge in the middle, could have done without that. But fragile nothing..."

“Impaling, punctured lungs, or even a fractured neck could kill you in an instant. The Witches will always attempt to kill you and anything nearby. They see you as nothing but an intruder to be eliminated.” Kyubey paused to clean his pointed ear with one paw. “You saw the benefits in action today. You remember what the seaweed Familiar did, right?”

A memory returned of the sensation of spines running right through flesh and bone, and Wheatley wondered if it was possible to throw up in a dream. He covered his mouth just in case, toes curling up in his shoes. To fight off the nausea he stared at the strange walls until it passed.

“I see I don’t have to ask. If you think of it one way, I didn’t kill you so much as make you invulnerable. Don’t humans have stories about immortality? I have heard fictionalized tales where people allow themselves to turn into vampires, or upload their consciousness into machinery." Kyubey looked up at the creepy blue eye in the huge monitor for some reason before turning his empty gaze back to Wheatley. "They willingly surrender their humanity to escape death.  That body won’t rot and die with time, like your old one would have done.” Kyubey curled his tail around his tea.

“But…I didn’t ask for this. None of us asked for it.” Wheatley stirred his tea, staring up again at that blue eye, which just blinked at him with metal lids. “Will I even be able to grow into an adult? You know, get married and start a family, that sort of thing?”

“Fighting Witches is dangerous. Even with the Soul Gem enhancement, many magicians don’t live long enough to find out, and the few exceptions are unusual. It’s possible you could use magic to make your body more adult-like over time if you really felt the need to do so. As for having children, it’s probably impossible. There have been rare exceptions in that case as well. But don’t worry, humanity is reproducing at such a rate that your being unable to do so will not affect the survival of the species.”

“Who cares about…! You’re just…” Wheatley snorted and attempted to drink tea, though his shaky hand spilled it all over the table. Still a clumsy oaf, even in a dream. “What you're saying is that I can't get this body killed because it's basically dead. Can't have children, won't age normally unless I use magic...what sort of life is that?" He wrapped his arms around his stomach. "...So why did I hear it from Glados, instead? Thought she was the jerk and you were on my side."

“The girl who calls herself that has her own reasons even I do not fully understand. I don’t really care what you humans tell each other. Do you have any more questions? I don’t answer questions very often, you know, but sometimes I’m generous. “

Wheatley slumped back into the too-low chair as the panels in the walls shifted, revealing more peering machine eyes. His gaze fell to the label on his jumper uniform, but it was written in an incomprehensible language he couldn’t make out. “Why did you pick me, mate? Why’d it have to be me? I mean, who do you choose to give this death sentence to, anyone who looks like enough of a sucker? Guess that qualifies me, doesn’t it?” He exhaled through his nose. "I just thought it was because I was special, or could become special. I mean had to be some cosmic reason you picked me. Chell seems to be really brave, Craig's smart..."

Kyubey tilted his head, as if studying Wheatley. “The reasons vary and have little to do with personal virtues. Those are subjective. Sometimes the personality is suited to it. Sometimes they have a great deal of potential built up, or seem to be able to generate strong emotions in themselves and others. And sometimes, some individuals can have potential for good or ill fate in this universe and timeline because of their actions in other universes. That’s very rare, though.”

“…Other timelines? Universes? What?”

“You didn’t think this is the only world there is, did you? Even I cannot cross timelines or universes, though it’s possible Chell could do the latter if she expended enough power and energy. She does have spatial magic, after all. I do know there are probably infinite universes; there may even exist places without Witches. Someone could have ill fortune in one universe because of their actions in another.”

It was all making Wheatley’s head hurt, and he wasn’t getting a lick of sense out of it, which at least was standard practice when he talked to Kyubey. “What about me, then? Why did you choose me?”

“Wait and see. You’ll understand.” Kyubey’s form melted into nothingness and vanished, leaving Wheatley stuck at the table in the room with no windows, the eye in the panels staring at him with a narrowed gaze.

* * *

 

Kyubey lifted his paw off of the blue Soul Gem, looking back at Wheatley, snoring and sprawled across the bed with one leg hanging off. “At least humans listen to me in their dreams. I wonder why they’re so irrational? Even the Queen makes strange decisions sometimes.” He flicked his tail and leaped away.

* * *

“Have you decided yet?” Kyubey perched on Chell’s shoulder, nuzzling her like a cat. It seemed ridiculous to think this adorable little creature could grant anyone power, but she’d seen the truth herself. “There’s so much I could give you. Money, power, intelligence, beauty, any of these could be yours. I can change the nature of your body and mind, if you make a contract with me.”

Kyubey,” a soft voice chided him, “don’t pressure her.” Black-gloved hands reached over to lift the creature, and Caroline took him in to a gentle hug. “Sorry, he just doesn’t know when he’s being pushy.” The other girl sat down next to Chell, the black ruffle of her dress brushing against Chell’s jeans. “You should consider it carefully. This is a difficult life, after all, but very rewarding in its own way. You’ll see things you didn’t know existed, and you’ll be a hero, even if most people never even know you’ve saved them. We Magi, we save a lot of lives.”

Chell felt so ordinary next to Caroline, in her long black dress and soft grey veil. She’d seen Caroline and the girl in green, Rita, glide like butterflies through the air as they saved her from that terrible thing. Rita was hanging back and watching, still resplendent in her emerald combat outfit. Caroline’s very touch had healed her wrist in seconds, and Chell had wondered if the two were angels.

"I don’t know.” She stared down at herself, scruffy and awkward in her own eyes. “It’s all very confusing. Can you give me some time to think about it?”

"C’mon,” Rita called from the wall she was leaning on, “you’ll be fine. It’s fun! You get to hunt monsters ‘n kick ass like some kinda superhero. Where else are you gonna get that?” She tossed something metallic-looking into the air and caught it.

Caroline just placed a hand on her shoulder, and Chell felt something soothing and gentle, something that helped calm her pounding heart. Kind black eyes looked into her own through that curious veil. “Whatever you decide will be alright, as long as you accept the consequences of your decision and agree to live without regrets.”

Kyubey wiggled his ears, snuggling against Caroline. “When you decide you know what to do, I’ll be waiting.”

Chell, consumed by old memories, did not sleep at all that night.

* * *

Sometimes Rita missed school. Not the ‘class’ part of it, of course, she could take or leave that. But standing outside the gates of St. Aperture’s, wearing her torn jeans and jacket, she wondered if she was missing out on something.

Well, no time for regrets. There was no changing the past now, unless Kyubey abruptly grew a heart and decided to give her a second wish.

As she heard the bell signaling the end of the class day, she quickly dropped her cigarette and extinguished it with her foot, dusting ash off of her jacket and smoothing her hair. Leaning against the wall, she watched the flood of burgundy-uniformed students spill from the gates, keeping her eye out for a certain chubby face and self-important walk.

Yes, that was the person from Glados’s photograph. He hadn’t shown at all on Monday and Tuesday; asking around revealed that he was probably at a Student Government meeting, and even Rita didn’t have the gall to sneak onto campus and pull him out. Now she ran over to him, putting on her best flirting eyes and syrupy voice.

“Craaig! Come on, you’re late for our date!”      

Craig stopped talking to the boy next to him and stared at Rita like she was an oncoming bus. The students next to him blinked, and some whispered to one another.         

“Um, do I know you…?”

“Oh, don’t be so mean, Craig! Come on! We have a date. Remember?” She waved at him and held up her hand, putting a special emphasis on the green Soul Gem that shimmered in her ring. That seemed to finally clue him in, and he let himself be pulled by the arm away from the crowds, leaving students around whispering.

Craig finally pulled away when they were out of hearing range, scowling. “Fact: we do NOT have a date. You might have one of those Gem things, but that doesn’t mean you can just embarrass me like that, whoever you are!” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “What if I had things to do?”

“Bet you didn’t. Bet you were just gonna go home and do homework that’s not due for a few days yet.”

Craig was silent for a moment. “So what if I was? Fine, then, what is it you want? That is a Soul Gem, right? You aren’t pulling some kind of prank on me. Did my opponent put you up to this?!”

Rita made a face and squinted. “Your opponent? What? Less than a week into the gig and you already have a rival?”

“Uh, no.” Craig seemed to relax a little bit. “I beat this other guy for Class President and I think he’s still mad about it. Well, I’ll know if you’re lying anyway, so come out with it. Who are you and how do you know my name?”

Rita ran a hand through her hair, smirking. “The name’s Rita Park. Glados told me about you. You know, short, white-haired, not all that cheerful?”

Craig blanched and took a step back. “Look, I don’t want anything to do with her. Everything about her just doesn’t sit right with me. And the last time I spoke with her, she casually informed me that I’m technically dead. It's impossible so I've decided not to think about it or its implications for very long...”

“Oh yeah, she told you that part, huh?” That would explain quite a bit, Rita noted. Glados probably wanted her to talk to Craig in order to make sure the kid hadn’t completely lost it. Not everyone took the news very well, after all. “Sorry about that. It’s something we all learn sooner or later.”

“Sorry about that…? That’s really all you can think to say?” Craig narrowed his eyes, then just sighed and slumped a little bit. “Well, it isn’t your fault, certainly. I don’t know what to think of it. Right now I’ve been dealing with it by pretending it didn’t happen and isn’t the case. I sleep like a living person, eat, think, move, breathe, and my body is warm, so I must still be ‘alive’ enough. At least that’s what I tell myself. The facts speak for themselves.”

“Ahhh. Denial. Healthy coping strategy.” Rita moved to grab Craig’s arm again, but he pulled away this time, so she just rolled her eyes. “Look, we’re going out for pizza, okay?”

“Don’t you mean, ‘would you like to go out for pizza?’” Craig stared at Rita again, bearing that same haughty pose she’d seen when he left the school, and then just seemed to wilt. “Fine, pizza’s fine. Let me just text my parents to let them know.”

Rita fumbled with something in her backpack. “Do you mind if I smoke?”

“Yes, I mind!” Craig snapped at Rita without looking up from his cell. “Do you know how bad smoking is for your lungs and teeth and-and everything?!”

“God, fine. You know, we can’t actually get lung cancer or anything like that. Our bodies don’t work like that anymore. Now spare me the health lecture and come with me to split a large pepperoni.” She didn’t have to drag Craig over this time, as the boy followed her, scowling the whole time.

* * *

 

It actually turned out to be half-pepperoni, half-mushroom. Craig was a vegetarian. “So, did you come here to convince me to work with that creepy girl? I don’t know what kind of stuff she does, but I want nothing to do with it. I’ll bring her that Grief Seed she wants soon, but that’s it.” He took a sip of ginger ale. “I want to figure out the facts by myself, you understand? No help from that White Queen, or Mr. Fake Expert, or you.”

“What a rugged individualist,” Rita muttered after swallowing a mouthful of cheese and sodium. “I’m not here to lure you in or anything so crass. I just want to talk to you. Give you both sides of the story so you can figure it out for yourself, okay? I’m pretty sure Beanpole is a lost cause, since the renegade girl has him in her clutches, but maybe you can be made to listen to reason or something.”

Craig lowered his eyelids, skeptical. “You have until my drink is finished to make your case. Start now. And if you're going to try using charm on me, don't bother.”

“So bossy! Anyway.” Rita leaned forward on the table and grinned like a cat. “Glados doesn’t force me to work with her or anything like that. It’s just that when Kyubey found me, I was all on my own and in over my head. Oh, I loved the adventure, don’t get me wrong. I was scared, but in a good way; you can’t live without being scared sometimes. The best thing about this gig is learning that there are still monsters out there, the real kind, not the ‘awful human’ kind, and I can beat ‘em myself. There’s no feeling more powerful.”

She continued, as Craig stared at her with silent expectation. “But it’s not something you can do alone. You burn out, eventually, literally and figuratively. The stress gets to be too much and you start feeling low, and when you’re feeling low, you burn your Gem faster. Your Soul Gem starts to go black, and then…I don’t know, I guess you lose your magic or die or something. It can’t be any good, whatever it is. So she shows up, and says she’ll help me out, help me learn the ropes in ways Kyubey won’t teach me. She also saved me from a Witch when I messed up, so, who was I to turn down a good offer?”

Her gaze began to drift as she leaned on her elbow, stirring her drink. “I know she’s harsh. It’s like havin’ a boss all the time when you don’t get paid. She doesn’t fit Witches much herself, because if she’s dead, our information network is gone. I don’t know who all her contacts are but I think most of ‘em are like her, experienced magicians with a lot of power. One was an oracle or somethin' before she kicked the bucket. Queenie tells us when Witches might show up, when it’s wise to attack a Familiar-that’s a baby Witch-or let it bloom into a full-grown Witch, and how to use our powers to the fullest. I mean, do you know what your powers are?”   

Craig fidgeted for a moment. “I haven’t used them since that first fight. I know I have this hammer I can swing even though it seems like it’s too heavy, and I can tell the truth from lies, or something. I was able to use some kind of gravitational force against that monster, but I don’t know how. I’d rather discover this for myself."

Rita raised an eyebrow. “It sounds like you’d like Alice. ‘I want to know what happens when I do this! What happens if I do that? Hey, can I throw my body off a building and survive if my Gem’s intact?’ If I didn’t know better, I’d say Kyubey invented the whole soul separation process just to keep her alive, because she ain’t got the sense the Lord gave a rock.” She blew bubbles into her cola and scowled. “You know what I mean? I mean, there’s being adventurous and just plain stupid.”

Craig studied her for a long time. “You don’t seem like someone who is afraid of taking risks. And even though everything you said was technically true, your eyes were shifting, as if you were hiding something. Is that really everything? The full reason you’re working with her?”

Rita stared at Craig for a moment. God, this boy, just penetrating people with that stare! Usually she could dominate others with her forceful personality, but this kid just wouldn’t back down. No wonder he was such a snob. He knew he could pull it off. She bit her lower lip, glancing away, and tried to formulate an excuse until she remembered what Craig said about his damn lie-detector magic.

“I don’t like being alone.”

“…Huh?” Craig’s steely gaze broke apart, and he stared at her in confusion. Apparently that was not the answer he expected. “That’s it? But you have parents, right? I mean, a family, friends? You’re a pretty girl, I figure you must have some kind of tough-kid friends group…?”

So, smart, but no tact. Go figure. Rita laughed a bit, though she didn’t feel like laughing. “You know what my wish was? ‘I want a life of adventure, with never a dull moment.’ Funny thing about adventure! It’s full of things that are fun to read about, but not so fun to experience.” The laughing stopped. “Anyway, to avoid telling a very unpleasant story I don’t want to talk about right now, no, I don’t have a family. Glados helps keep an eye on me in that sense, too. Chell used to look after me too, but it was in this condescending way, like she knew better because she had a house and a mom and stuff. Glados is at least honest about the fact that she keeps me around for selfish reasons. I hate being pitied; I’d rather just freeze in the streets.”

Craig, for once, was silent again, and Rita took that as a cue to continue. “So you see,” she added, a little bit of edge in her voice, “Glados may not be the best company in the world, but at least I can trust her to be a jerk. She won’t fail me. Besides, I feel like I owe her, and I can’t just turn on people if I got obligations to them. She’s right about things, usually. She can give the answers no one wants to hear that’ll keep us alive, even if we hate ourselves for what we have to do. We have to say alive, Craig. Without us, there’s no one to stop the Witches from hurtin’ people and driving ‘em mad.” What was she telling him this for? Was she trying to convince herself?

The sound of clinking ice indicated that Craig had indeed reached the bottom of his drink. He frowned, held the glass up to signal a waiter, and turned back to Rita. “I understand.”

“So don’t go acting all haughty at me, because-huh?”

“I understand. No, that’s not right for me to say. I don’t understand, because I’ve never been alone before. My family are all close, and my parents are both married. I figured from the start it might be harder to earn the respect of my classmates as a neurotic fat kid, so I learned to be outspoken and got involved in Student Government. I made friends there, not all of whom are genuine, but they’re company.” Craig looked up at Rita with what looked like genuine remorse. “So the idea of being alone, really alone, terrifies me so much that I don’t know what I’d do. Maybe I’d work with someone who isn’t a very pleasant person if she were company.”

After listening for a little while, Rita let out another harsh laugh. “I hope that’s not pity, because if it is, I’ll kick your ass. I don’t care if you’re a newbie or not. Anyway, I have a feeling I’ve not convinced you to the Court’s cause. Well, that’s what they get for thinking I got any social skills to think of that don’t involve shouting.” She scratched at her head, beneath the black and green bow in her hair. “Well, whatever. I said my piece. So do whatever you want with it. That said, you should probably show up Sunday. That’s the real reason she sent me. Something’s going down on Sunday near the docks, and she wants me to gather as many local magicians as I can.” She shrugged. “Have no idea why. Anyway, thanks for the pizza, kid.” She stood up and turned to leave, walking a few steps before looking over her shoulder at him.

He was sort of cute, in a stuck-up way. It’s too bad he was probably as doomed as the rest.

“Oh, that reminds me. If you see a blond magician in pink, let me know? She’s kind of dressed like a jester and has a big ol’ boomerang. You’ll know her because she never shuts the Hell up. She’s kind of been scarce lately, and I just want her to check on in.”

She adjusted her backpack and walked out of the restaurant, leaving just in time to hear his voice protest from inside.

“But the check! You can’t invite someone out and leave them with the check! It just isn’t done…!”

* * *

 

“Oh, look! Snow.” Kyubey caught a snowflake on his nose. “This must be the first snow of the year, right?”

Despite herself, Glados extended a hand to catch a few of the falling snowflakes. She used to enjoy the sting of the cold against her palm. Nowadays she could at least appreciate their appearance, delicate and short-lived. They melted in her palm.

It was quite a late hour, and Glados was thankful for the light of her Soul Gem. It made it easier to read the screen of her laptop. “Kyubey,” she asked him idly as she clicked through useless messages, “do you think they’ll leave me, too? My current Court.”

“I don’t see why it matters. Why would you get attached to them? The odds are high you’ll outlive them.” Kyubey groomed his tail with his tongue, speaking clearly nonetheless. However he communicated with people, it didn’t involve his mouth. “I thought you said you were past that kind of attachment. You’ve certainly had long enough to get over it.”

“I thought I did. Maybe it isn’t something humans get over. It irritates me; you’ll always be ahead of me because of these damn emotions.” Glados tapped one of Kyubey’s ears, and it flicked involuntarily. “Trust me. If I could delete them, I would. It would make the solution to our problem a lot easier.”

Kyubey looked up at Glados for a few long moments. “It isn’t unusual to be afraid of death. It’s in your evolutionary programming. I’m sure I’ve told you that before.”

“Yes, but it’s my own weakness, and I hate it. Not even this,” she said as she lifted her Soul Gem in her hand, “could make me perfect. Not even you could.”

“You never wished to be perfect.”

“True.” She stared out into the night sky, watching an energy ripple erupt into the sky in the distance. It was the calling card of another Witch manifesting. Who was this one? A Familiar reaching full growth after anonymously taking the life of a human? Or…?

"Do you still plan to show them that on Sunday?”

“It’s for the best. Even if it kills some of them. That'd mean they weren’t going to be able to deal with this life anyway. If you can’t cut it as a magician, you’re better off fueling the universe. Isn’t that what you told me once?”

Kyubey made a noise like a purr. “So, it takes humans a hundred years to even evolve far enough to begin to grasp that, then? No wonder you’ll never catch up to us.”

Glados’s gaze locked onto Kyubey. Her hand reached out to grab his tail, and she abruptly flung him off the building.

Mere minutes passed before his replacement body reappeared, eyes glinting red, as if nothing had happened. “I’m still not sure what that was for! You know I didn’t intend it as an insult, just an observation.”

“Yes, well, that was me teaching you passive aggression.” Glados rolled her eyes. “ Now shut up and drink your hot chocolate.”


	7. "You'll be glad you know it."

“I can’t help but feel like there was something I forgot. Did she want me to bring snacks or something? Are we eating snacks? It’d be nice to have some refreshments during this lesson, wouldn’t it?” Wheatley was aware he was rambling, as he often did when nervous, because the sound of his own voice was more comfortable than silence. Besides, Chell wasn’t the most talkative type on good days, and Craig seemed preoccupied with his cell phone.

“Can’t believe you can get reception here, mate. It’s always awful for me.” Wheatley stumbled as the subway jostled during a turn, almost losing the grip on the pole he held. The seats on trains were clearly made for people with short legs, and he didn’t mind standing, anyway. "Oh! Introductions, I should handle those! Introductions, yes. Chell, this is my schoolmate Craig, um..."  
  
"Wilson." Craig still didn't look up.

"Aha, right! Yes, Craig Wilson. He's Class President and all that. And Craig, this is my friend Chell, umm..."

"Vasques." Chell actually smiled a little and Wheatley felt blood rush to his cheeks.   
  
"We actually introduced ourselves at the train station while you were fiddling with the fare machine," Craig added. "Sorry."  
  
So his sacred duty had been usurped. Wheatley pretended not to care. “I guess that Rita girl said she’d get there on her own? Maybe she needs to be there early to prepare for it. I didn’t much like the last lesson, but Glados does seem to know a whole lot. Insistent lady, isn't she? Wouldn’t want to get on her bad side, any more than I might be already.” He found himself wishing someone else would help carry the conversation, but it seemed that while nervousness made him noisier, it tended to silence others.

“What do you suppose it’s over? I mean, I figured you’re an expert, Chell. You’ve been at this longer than we have, but she still wanted you to come. That’s the bloody weird thing. Must be some kind of advanced class, except she asked us rookies.”

“And some of the magicians from Harborside,” Craig added idly. “I don’t know how many there are there, but it might be quite a crowd. Must be something big.”

Wheatley laughed to calm himself, even though he could think of nothing terribly funny about the White Queen. “I guess she has more Court members or whatever there. What, do all the magicians in the city know about her? I’ve certainly never seen her fighting a Witch! Acts all big and then she doesn’t do the work at all, does she?” His eyes wandered to an ad for medical insurance, which made him think of injuries, which reminded him of Witch spears and Witch spines. Somehow, that brought him to Glados’s penetrating yellow eyes.

“You know, we don’t have to go. We could all just happen to come down with the flu, yeah? It is that time of year and it’s going around my school. This poor mate just spilled his lunch all over the bleachers in Phys Ed the other day. You remember Craig? You-wait, we don't have the same Phys Ed. Anyway. We could just text her and say it’s terrible but we’re quite ill, we’re thankful for the invitation but we don’t want to pass it on. And then she wouldn’t believe us because our bodies can’t get sick anymore, or she’d go find Craig and demand we tell the truth in front of him. Sorry, Craig.” He slumped against the pole. “We have to go, don’t we?”

Chell just looked up at him and nodded, a grave expression on her face. If Chell was so willing to see Glados again, Wheatley reasoned, it must be serious. Information would keep him alive, even if the teacher was a monster. Kyubey's warnings be damned, _he_ wasn't going to die.

* * *

The light dusting of snow had melted by the time they arrived at the area of the harbor Glados had indicated in her e-mails, leaving the ground slightly damp. The sky had the white glow suggesting another snowfall might be due soon. Fog obscured the view of barges and ferries out on the bay, leaving the horizon past the pier a shapeless void above gray, roiling waves. Many of the warehouses were closed on Sundays, leaving the pier largely empty, except for the assortment of youths in strange outfits gathering near a shipyard. It reeked of salt and dead fish.

Wheatley and the others had transformed as directed. As Craig predicted, they weren’t the only magicians present. A boy in a purple, caped outfit suggesting a prince sat with his sword in his lap, and next to him, a girl in robes as red as her hair spun a chakram on her finger. A pair of twins, one boy and one girl, sat together in matching gold and silver outfits, both carrying lances larger than themselves. Some looked older than Wheatley, including one youth in indigo who looked to be nearing adulthood. If he really was never going to age normally, he thought, perhaps it was true that he could alter his physical age eventually; if so, maybe that’s what some of the magicians nearby had done.

He spotted Rita sitting atop a stack of crates, hanging her booted feet over the edge.

“Hello.” Glados appeared to step out of the fog, though perhaps it just obscured the resplendent whiteness of her princess ballgown. “I’m glad you all chose to make it. You may not like what you see today, but I guarantee you, you’ll be glad you know it. Of course, some of you may know it already. In that case, I would apologize and ask you not to ruin the surprise.” Her smile reminded Wheatley of an alligator.

She strolled effortlessly, despite carrying a staff considerably taller than herself. “My name is something I won't tell you. I'm going to take it to my deathbed long after you’re gone. You, however, can call me Glados, or White Queen if you prefer. As you may be aware, I head up the White Court, an organization dedicated to the education and preservation of magicians. Of course, some of you choose to work outside of the Court.” She gave a pointed glance towards Chell and Wheatley, and while Chell remained still, Wheatley involuntarily took a step right back with a guilty wince. “That is your decision. Your stupid, unfounded, suicidal decision.”

She cleared her throat before continuing, walking over to a crate where Wheatley noticed another magician, this one blond and freckled in a bright pink harlequin outfit. She was sitting, and looking a little tired. If he didn’t know better, he’d guess she was ill. “This is Alice. Alice has gratefully volunteered to demonstrate the results of her experiment for us all to document. My dear, why don’t you continue?”

Alice leaped down to the ground, though the effort seemed to hurt her for a moment. She steadied herself, and offered a bright, if weary smile. “Hello, everyone! Hi, Rita! Hi, new people! It’s nice to meet you! What are your names? Well, I’ll ask later. Where are we, anyway? I’ve never been to this part of the harbor before. Do you think it’ll snow tonight? Will the snow delay the bus schedule? I want to get home on time, and I hate taking the subway. Do you know how dirty the subways are?”

"Get ON with it, Alice.”Glados held her forehead.

“Oh, right. You see, you know how Kyubey keeps telling us to collect Grief Seeds in order to purify our Soul Gems? He never told me what happens if I don’t. So I decided to try and see. I haven’t collected a Soul Gem in a couple of weeks. See?” She held out her hand, and although it was tiny, every single magician could tell what it was she was holding. It was a Soul Gem, one which at one point had been pink, but now a deep rose color had almost been completely overwhelmed by liquid shadow.

“What?! What are you doing?!” Chell lunged forward, but Glados held out her staff, forming a ring of green smoke around Alice.

“Proceed, Alice. Don’t let any of these anti-intellectuals get in your way.”

Oblivious to the concerns of the magicians around her, Alice held her Soul Gem aloft. “So far, I can report that I don’t feel very well. I wonder why that is? Do you ever think about what could possibly create shadows in our souls? Maybe it’s because of misery or pain. I’ve been in a lot of pain, but I haven’t been afraid! I’m never afraid anymore. You aren’t afraid, are you?”

Wheatley was frozen in place from fear and morbid curiosity, but the older boy seemed to know something. He grabbed at the young twins, leaning over to them. “You have to get out of here,” he commanded. “Now.”

“EVERYONE STAYS.” Glados’s voice thundered through the fog as she brought her staff down. “One person leaves and everyone gets lungfuls of toxic gas. It probably won’t kill you, but good luck being unable to breathe for days.” She flashed a smile at the curiously unconcerned Alice. “Sorry, Alice, I like to be supportive of my friends and their endeavors into science. We mustn’t let Kyubey trap us in ignorance.”

Alice’s smile had vanished, however, and she was holding a hand to her face. “Why is my nose bleeding? My body feels all tingly and numb. Is that normal? Wait, you wouldn’t know, would you? You said you didn’t know what happens, either!”

"She’s lying,” Craig whispered, tugging on Chell’s sleeve. “Or Glados was lying. I can’t tell…”

Glados was silent for her part, while Alice started to slump over. Wheatley started to back off again, simply unable to watch. Whatever was going to happen to Alice, he did not want to see it. He’d just shut his eyes, and Glados wouldn’t be able to tell.

“Oh,” Glados added, “One. More. Thing. It seems like _someone_ forgot to pay what he owes me. Ignorant freeloader, thinking he can get something for nothing, when I work so hard to get this information. You know who you are and you should feel awful.”

_Wouldn’t want to be in his shoes,_ Wheatley thought, seconds before he remembered what it was he’d forgotten to bring. A week had passed, and he had no Grief Seed for Glados. All eyes were on Alice, still, except for Glados’s, which were on him.

Terrified, he resorted to sputtering and pleading. “Look, I just forgot! It’s been a very stressful week, that’s all, and usually I’m an expert at getting those Grief Seeds, you know? I could fight all day and night! I’ll bring you a bloody basket-full of Grief Seeds dusted with powdered sugar and a jar of jam, just please, give me more time…!”

Glados laughed, and he decided he hated the sound of her laugh. “You act like I’m so unfair! All I wanted was one little Grief Seed and you couldn’t even give me that. Still, I’ll forgive you for being such a failure of a magician. I’ll even offer you a front-row seat for the show.”

Tendrils of shadow wrapped around Wheatley’s legs and midsection, dragging him towards the edge of the harbor. He screamed, sure she was going to drag him into the ocean, instead finding himself bound to a pole on the edge of the docks. Chell and Craig lunged to follow, but a swell of green smoke surrounded them, leaving them in coughing fits.

Wheatley couldn’t tell what the bindings were made of, except that they flowed like smoke and burned his skin when he resisted. All he could do was look straight at Alice, and watch. “Don’t worry about me,” he sputtered. “Actually, no, worry about me, worry about me! Actually, no. Worry about that…!”

Something strange was going on with Alice. She’d fallen silent, and her body was slumped against the crate, eyes glassy and vacant. Her Soul Gem was glowing in front of her, completely black, and Wheatley could make out a tiny crack in the glass.

The cracks multiplied a thousandfold, and the Soul Gem exploded, revealing a ringed object that reminded Wheatley of an ornament. No, come to think of it, that was the shape of a Grief Seed.

“RUN!” The oldest magician shouted the order at the twins, blocking the ensuing shockwave with his own body. The prince and the chakra girl stood ready for a fight, but were blown back by the powerful windstorm erupting around the new Grief Seed. Alice’s body slumped lifelessly against the docks, and Glados wreathed herself in shadow. Chell and Craig were thrown far backwards out of Wheatley’s view, and only he, trapped in his binds, saw the darkness from the broken Soul Gem swell up, spread out, and take shape.

From the inky corruption of Alice’s soul, a new Witch was born. It loomed before Wheatley, his only company as his surroundings warped into a new Labyrinth. It looked at him with eyes of fire, and he knew that it saw him, too.

 

* * *

She was happy, for She had Her universe, in which She was God. There was nothing past the universe, nothing good, nothing but garbage to be consumed and discarded at will. Here was all the happiness and joy She would ever experience. Here nothing would hurt Her, nothing but the viruses which had invaded Her universe.

She could sense them, and their very presence horrified Her. They were not like Her, or the Familiars who were part of Her. They had to be eliminated before She sent Her Familiars out into the nothingness beyond, to kill and eat and one day grow up to be Her.

She had filled Her universe with all the things She loved back when She was a virus herself, before She became beautiful. She adorned it with the books She could remember, surrounded Herself with test tubes and Bunsen burners, just like the chemistry set virus-Her had owned once. She built tunnels like an ant farm, shaped Familiars into books and monsters made of paper, and filled the sea beneath Her with mercury. She looked upon Her creation, and called it good. Here, She could answer her questions all She pleased, just like the queen virus had done, but better. She would be better because She was perfect now, resplendent in glass and flame.

Her gaze fell on the tiny virus trapped in front of her, slumped inside of a glass beaker. It was looking up at Her, and speaking in the language of viruses she could no longer comprehend, having ascended past their level of understanding. She wondered if this virus would ever become like Her, if she prodded and poked it the right way and asked it the right questions. Having all the time in the universe, for the universe was Hers, She decided to find out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter, I know. I'll try to upload these more regularly now.


	8. "Who cares if I disappear?"

Chell’s vision cleared, and she spat out something ashy and metallic. She was sitting in a heap of some kind of metallic powder, inside of some kind of tunnel pasted with white paper. No, it was newsprint, typed pages, and pages torn from books. The text was garbled and unreadable, and the fact that it moved around like swimming fish didn’t help. She was sure she was bleeding from her forehead, but it didn’t matter. She’d heal herself later.

There was no sign of Craig or even Rita, and she had no idea how close she was to Wheatley and whatever had become of Alice. Standing up, she noticed a humanoid shape in the copper sand, reaching in to grab the hand and drag it out. She immediately regretted her action.

White hair was in a tangle, and the dress was stained dark red in the shoulder, but Glados appeared otherwise unharmed. Her gold eyes looked up at Chell, and she smirked as she climbed back up, using her staff to steady herself. “Well, didn’t I tell you I’d have a sensational lesson for you?”

Chell punched Glados in the face.

“That was brutish. I should expect that sort of thing from you.” Glados wiped her mouth with a delicate gloved hand, dusting off her dress. “You’ve put it together, right? Where this Witch came from? I realize it was hard to see, but you’ve got a brain somewhere in that thick skull. You can add two and two.”

It was obvious where the Witch had come from, but it was such a horrifying conclusion, such an impossible and yet entirely too plausible explanation that Chell didn’t even want to think about it. Glados, however, was the last person to respect any kind of sensitivity on anyone’s part but her own.

Instead, she grabbed Glados by the collar, barely containing the fire that was bubbling in her mind as she stared the White Queen in the eyes. “You knew what would happen. Craig told me you lied. You knew.”

“Of course I knew. Do you honestly think any of you would have believed me if I had just told you? Everything about being a magician is supposed to be wonderful, after all. Kyubey obscures the truth, so I reveal it for the world to see, even if it means I have to hurt a few people in the process.” She didn’t seem terribly afraid of Chell, just staring right back at her defiantly. “You’re going to accuse me of killing Alice now, aren’t you? You would.”

“Prove to me you didn’t.”

“Alice, oh Alice. She was one of my best agents. You know why? She told me what her wish was when we first met. She’d wished to live without fear. Kyubey answered that wish by removing the capacity for fear from her mind and soul, so she would never be afraid of anything again. It’s a funny thing, fear; it keeps you alive. It’s a survival tactic.” Glados laughed mirthlessly. “Alice just had to know everything, and even if she knew something was true, she had to see it for herself. ‘Hey, if I drop off of this building but keep my Soul Gem safe, can I really repair myself?’ ‘What does that toxic stuff you control smell like?’ She no longer had a sense of self-preservation. Hence, after being told not to do something, she just had to do it to see if she could. All she did was ask me for permission to perform her experiment. Who was I to say no?”

Chell trembled, still holding Glados by the collar. She could do it right now, get rid of the White Queen and her reign over the other magicians forever. It would be easy. She wouldn’t even have to kill Glados; she could just open a one-way portal, drag Glados in, let go and leave her there. And it would doom Glados to an eternal un-life in the space between dimensions until the girl chose to break her own Soul Gem.

She couldn’t do that to anyone, not even Glados.

Instead, she dropped the other girl on the ground like lead, staring at the labyrinth. “You’re helping me find Wheatley and Alice. Right now. Time to fight a Witch.”

“What do you mean, find Alice? She’s everywhere! Denial is a terrible coping mechanism, Chell.” Glados paused to send ropes of smoke to tear apart a Familiar shaped like a rubber glove, and it made a liquid sound as it died. “Think of a caterpillar. It hatches, thinking its life is one of eating and sleeping, and then one day, it begins to change against its will. It has to, whether it wants to or not. When it emerges from its chrysalis, it is permanently changed.”

“Are you saying we’re…?”

“You’re witnessing the natural life cycle of a Witch. Pay attention. This will happen to all of us, one day, too.” She turned to smile at Chell, an expression dripping with sugar and acid. “Won’t you help me find that Witch? It’ll be like old times.”

With every word Glados spoke, it became more tempting to toss her into a portal after all. But whatever rage Glados inspired in Chell, it was being overwhelmed by revulsion and horror at the truth she’d seen from her eyes. This Witch was Alice, and it had been a person less than an hour ago. It had stopped being a person right in front of her eyes. They were going to have to kill it, and someone would take the remains of Alice’s Soul Gem and use it to keep themselves alive. A hand fell to her chest as she found it difficult to breathe.

“What the hell are we…?!”

Glados just looked over her shoulder at Chell, voice level. “Don’t you get it? Each and every magical girl or boy is nothing more than the larval form of a Witch.” Any sign of gloating was gone, her tone the detached and clinical voice of a scientist observing a phenomenon. “Do you know why so many people are still willing to work under me, no matter what I do? It’s because I’m still better than our real boss.”

* * *

Glados’s binds were gone, but it didn’t matter. The giant glass beaker had formed around Wheatley, trapping him in ropes of unbreakable glass, the shattered front of the beaker giving him a full view of the Witch in all of her terrible splendor. He could feel glass poking right through his arms. It didn't even hurt. Trying to ignore the sickening physical sensation, he focused on the terrible thing in front of his eyes.

She was pink fire inside of a glass oil lamp, a vaguely humanoid figure swirling and dancing inside of the flame. Her lamp body was suspended over a sea of mercury. Beyond her, the sky itself was plastered with ropes of dancing letters, occasionally spelling out stray words with no context. The beaker was the only thing keeping Wheatley from plunging into the silver sea, hanging from chains ascending into the paper sky. He had to admit, the pink light she cast over her silver throne room looked quite remarkable.

_But you could be remarkable, too._

His hands trembled as he attempted to summon forth a burst of magic. “You can do this, Wheatley,” he told himself. “You can do this. Just break out of the glass and make a run for it. Would be a silly way to die, wouldn't it? Maybe I can swim in that stuff…” He summoned a blue crystal barrier around himself, but all it did was shield him from the tiny sparks floating from the sea to the sky. The glass remained intact.

“Oh, of course. It formed its Labyrinth around me. Lucky me. It-her…” Her. That was Alice, that lamp creature, and somewhere in the sea her body was floating, abandoned. He’d seen for himself what had happened to her Soul Gem. Glados had indeed given him a front row seat to watch a human transform into a Witch.

The flames began to reshape themselves inside of the glass, displaying a series of strange letters, one at a time. He realized they were spelling out a message, but he couldn’t read the language.

“Um, hello?” His inquiry brought up more letters he couldn’t read, and Alice’s voice, laughing from the walls.

Maybe it wanted to communicate with him, somehow. Maybe Alice was still in there. Maybe he could talk her down! And then the others could find her body and fix everything. Surely Glados, if anyone, knew how to fix everything?

“Um, Hi! I’m Wheatley, love. I live closer to the theater district. Haven’t really been at this job very long. What about you? You’re Alice, right? Alice, that’s you, isn’t it…?” It was troubling, to think of a Witch and a person as one and the same. Had the bee been someone? What about the mermaid in the clamshell, or the cake creature?

If a magician could become a Witch, did that mean…

The runes shifted again, and for a second he could see Alice’s silhouette before it warped into another curved letter. Her image superimposed over the very inhuman shapes in the pink flames unsettled him.

“Alice! Listen, whoever you are, you _were_ Alice, right? We can talk this out, right? Like civilized humans?”

A fountain of pink flame erupted from the lamp, engulfing Wheatley for a few seconds. It was more painful than anything a Witch had done to his new body so far; he could only imagine what it would have done to a human. (A human? He was still a human, wasn’t he?) He cried out, gritting his teeth before calling forth a shield to protect his body, channeling his energy into it as his Soul Gem glowed. His body wasn't burnt, but it sure felt like the real thing.

“Okay, okay. We can’t. So, what is it you want to do? You don’t want to eat me, right? I’m so stringy, mostly bones really. It’s just that my body really wants to keep growing upwards. Or did, you know, before Kyubey did whatever to it. You want your body back too, right? You AUGH!” The shield went right back up, rippling in the face of the witch’s fire. He wondered how long it would hold up, and how much magic he had to use before he gave out. The pink flames displayed more runes at a faster pace, as if the creature was trying to say something.

“I’d love to talk to you, miss, but it’d be much easier if you’d stop trying to set me on fire!” He stared up at the thing that had been Alice, connections quickly forming in his mind into very unpleasant conclusions. They had to be wrong, right? He was very good at drawing the wrong conclusion. “Listen, are you…did you used to be the same as me? Really? Am I the same as you…?” He knew to shield himself again, the fire turning the shield an unpleasant shade of purple. He could still feel its heat, bound hand instinctively gripping the gem on his wrist, but he didn’t look away from Agora. At the very least, if Alice was in there, maybe she wanted to see someone.

He heard a bubbling noise, and looked down through the suspended glass beaker to the sea of mercury. It was rising, slowly, and it would overtake him eventually if it continued to do so. Even if drowning couldn't permanently kill him, he envisioned the sensation of drowning over and over in his mind, and started to panic. “Look, stop! Please, stop! Even if we can’t fix you, you don’t have to do this! There’s no need to kill anyone! We didn't know you’d become this, Alice! Nobody knew!”

He was going to die here with this Witch, who was Alice, who was possibly already dead. And lucky for him, she didn’t even have the decency to make it quick.

* * *

 

Craig calmed his thoughts by identifying the scientists and philosophers whose faces he could recognize on the giant ant Familiars biting at him from above. “Copernicus. And that looks like a bust of Charles Darwin on that thing’s head. And that’s obviously Albert Einstein…” He felt a little bad about smashing Einstein’s face in with a hammer, causing the ant creature to shatter into plaster and mist, but he didn't have much of a choice.

She was lying. Glados had lied, he knew, which meant that she knew full well what would happen to Alice, whoever she was. Is. He didn't want to think about her in the past tense. He definitely didn’t want to think about the enormous queen bee he was so proud of defeating, and who that might have been.

He had managed to piece together what had happened, more or less. There had been some kind of shock wave after Alice’s Soul Gem exploded, and it had knocked them all back and scattered them across what had now become her Labyrinth. For a newborn Witch, she had a huge Labyrinth; he’d been crawling through giant ant farm tunnels for what felt like hours, though he wasn't sure how time passed in the strange pocket dimensions where Witches hid. There was no sign of Chell, Wheatley, or even Glados. His arm was bleeding heavily where an ant monster had bitten him, but it was already starting to heal with a soft red glow. He covered it with his sleeve, not wanting to see his own flesh knot up and repair itself.

Marie Curie lunged at him with snapping jaws, and he shattered her with a swing of his hammer. When the mist she left behind cleared, he spotted two small, crouching figures crying softly over something up ahead in the tunnel. He approached slowly, in case they were Familiars themselves, before he recognized the twins from the harbor.

They were both holding their halberds in one hand and covering their faces with the other. When he arrived, the girl looked up at him with tear-swollen eyes, and then back down at the fallen figure of the older boy who had tried to protect them.

“Um, hey, it’s alright,” he reassured the two, who looked a bit younger than him. “We can fix ourselves, we just need…” He trailed off as he stared at the boy’s dark blue Soul Gem, shattered in pieces across his chest.

“Mikhail used to look after us,” the boy sniffled. “He was hurt in the explosion, and one of the ants bit right through him.”

It was one thing to see Wheatley almost-die and revive in a space of ten minutes. It was another to witness someone die, actually die, as a result of the monsters he fought. Craig didn’t like dealing with death. He wanted to wish it all away, but it was a cold, hard fact, and he couldn’t ignore facts. “Come on.” He placed his hands on the shoulders of the twins, both of whom trembled. “I’ll help us find the exit. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Don’t underestimate us,” the girl snapped, standing straight up again with her halberd ready. “We've fought a lot of Witches before.” Craig just found himself hoping that she was one of the magi who hadn't aged physically, because the fact that she was telling the truth hurt his head.

“…Okay, fine. We’ll head towards the Witch. But if either one of you is hurt, I’m rushing you both to the exit.” Surely Craig’s friends would understand if he had to save these two, if they were still alive.

* * *

Wheatley realized after several painful minutes that the Witch liked hearing human speech, even if it couldn't understand him. When he fell silent, it flung rivers of pink fire at him, forcing him to drain his magic and shield himself. When he spoke, it still attacked him, but at least it paused from time to time to give him a chance to breathe. Nothing seemed to stop the slow rise of the mercury sea.

“So if I've put two and two together, we turn into Witches if our Gems go dark. I guess I just won’t let mine go dark, then. It’s your fault anyway, doing a stupid experiment like that!” He hung his head, voice weary from pain and exhaustion. If there was one thing he could do, however, it was talk. “I didn't want it to end this way. I just wanted a chance to stand out and be important to someone. I just get shuffled along, and I’m sure if my uncle did manage to open his business, he’d just shuffle me in there to get me a job, and I’d be shuffled here and there in different departments, and I wouldn't even notice it until I thought about it too hard. I wouldn't matter. Kyubey gave me a chance to matter, you know?”

The pink flame in the lamp danced, displaying pictures now. It showed question marks, dancing figures, boomerangs, and ants.

“Yes, again with the ants! I get it! You had an ant farm or something. Or you liked bugs. Does it matter? Does any of that mean you have to kill people? If Witches were people, why do they go around trying to kill us? Are you mad or something? You’re not mad at me, are you?”

Liquid mercury bubbled up over the sides of the lamp, lobbing globs of itself at him. It felt cold and hard against his skin, and covered one of his eyes. His bound hands couldn't wipe it off, so he just looked out at her with the other eye.

“I guess I should have figured I was his sucker. Why would he seek me out? There’s nothing special about me, and now the only thing special about me is how quickly I’m going to die this early in my magician career. I thought…it’s stupid, but I thought if I got a drama scholarship, I could go to theater school and learn how to be a magician or actor or something. I just want to make people happy, because then they like me. I guess that’s not working for you, but if I were you, I wouldn't be very happy, either.”

He wasn't sure how much magic he had left, or if he would burn himself out and suffer the same fate Alice did. Could a Witch kill a Witch? He had no idea where his friends were, or even if they were still alive. They wouldn't abandon him, would they? He could imagine Craig doing the practical thing and waiting to regroup, coming up with some tactical plan which unfortunately wouldn't save him in time. Chell…

“I just thought I could impress her, you know? I don’t know why I wanted to so badly. I’d never even seen her before.” If he was going to die, someone at least ought to hear it, and Alice certainly wouldn't tell. “But I saw her there, flying around, and she was just like nothing else I’d seen. She was special, like some kind of miracle. She was a guardian angel, and I thought if I were like that, if I could fight alongside her, I’d…she’d…I don’t know what I thought. It was a selfish wish anyway. When I die, my parents will be furious with me for not wishing them back to life. I mean what sort of bloody son doesn't...”

He realized, after a few moments, that the flames had calmed themselves after he started talking about his wish.

“…You really do want to hear? Hah, that’s not a little pathetic, isn't it? You know, it’d be even better if you’d let me go, but I guess that’s a bit much to ask.” Maybe, Wheatley thought, she was frightened. Maybe some part of Alice was still there, watching in helpless horror as the thing she had become raged out of control. He wasn't sure how exactly he could prove any comfort, but perhaps she just wanted to hear a human voice.

“Well, anyway, if I had a second chance, I’d make a better wish. Something that doesn't mean I get myself in trouble so Chell has to save me again. One of these days she’ll get hurt saving me, and then what will I do? I don’t want to be that kind of ‘important’ to her! I don’t want to be some fellow in distress for her. I want…what I’d want, what I really wish is…”

He trailed off when he spotted a streak of green leap straight across the sky, swinging from a whip which had hooked itself onto one of the hanging chains. He stared up at the blur, wondering and then recognizing. “Rita. Oh, Rita, thank goodness! Come, please, lend me a hand! Do help me out here…!”

Rita, however, didn't seem to hear him. She swung down, landing on a hanging test tube, and then wrapped her hook chain around the glass neck of the lamp. Was it just her super speed, or was she really shaking?

“Alice,” Rita shouted, her voice harsh and angry. “You IDIOT!” She pulled the chain taut as currents of electricity crackled through the whip, shattering the glass of the lamp and causing the pink flames to swell up immensely. “You absolute idiot…!”

Wheatley just stared at the pillar of fire displaying shapes of eyes, fangs, and claws, as the mercury started rising up at a much faster rate. “Are you CRAZY!?”

“Shut up, Wheatley,” Rita snapped, and as she glared at him, he swore he could make out tears. “I got a bigger moron to deal with right now!”

* * *

_Alice was always asking strange questions, the likes of which Rita would never have bothered with._

_“Do you think ants mind living in a glass farm? Do they think they’re living in a prison or a palace, I wonder?”_

_Alice embraced Witch-hunting wholeheartedly, and spoke as if it was what she was meant to do. She once told Rita that she was blessed to be a magician, because it meant she could know things others never would._

_“What if everyone knew about Witches? Do you think they’d stop us from fighting them, since we’re still just kids in their eyes?”_

_Alice sought out Glados herself, without any prompting, beaming that half-wild grin as she approached the White Queen. She said that what Glados was doing was interesting, and she wanted to know more about it. She was always wanting to know more. In retrospect, Rita realized, she probably asked too many questions of Glados._

_“Do you think it’s possible we could survive forever, if we kept hunting Witches and kept our Soul Gems pure? Do you think we’d live to see the sun go nova? What do you think that’s like?”_

_Alice was Glados’s willing sacrificial lamb. And, Rita realized after a while, I guess I am, too._

* * *

 

“Did you think you could just do this ‘experiment’ without telling me? Did you think you could die without warning me?!” Rita stood on the rim of a hanging test tube and screamed at the rose-colored flame even as it shot upwards in a pillar, lighting the paper sky on fire. Bits of something floated down, hot to the touch. “You don’t need to see everything for yourself! Glados would tell you! She would have told me if I’d thought to ask!”

Wheatley just stared up at the exchange from his prison, dimly aware that the mercury was bubbling up much faster now, like a rising lava lake.

The fire Witch spit a ball of flame at Rita, who leaped up to hang onto one of the descending chains. “Jumping off of buildings to see if you could heal your own broken legs, rushing wildly into Witch labyrinths with no regard for yourself…I’m supposed to be the reckless one here! I’m the idiot hero! You were supposed to be the smart one. You were supposed to be the one I could rely on…”

The burning sky threw debris into the mercury, one piece falling right onto Wheatley. He grit his teeth to stop himself from shouting. He could heal it later. Somehow, he was beginning to forget about how doomed he was, caught up in Rita’s battle.

Rita whipped the air, sending another blast of green electricity at the angry Witch. Her entire body was still shaking, and one of her arms was covered in dark-colored burns. “Or you could have asked me, you know, if you so had to see it for yourself? Who cares if I disappear? I don’t have a family anymore. I don’t go to school, don’t live anywhere permanently, don’t even really exist as far as the world’s concerned. Glados would just replace me and I'd get my hero's death. People like me disappear all the time.”

Her voice cracked. “But you! You have people you’re leavin’ behind. Do you have any idea how much it hurts? Constantly bein’ left behind, over and over, because somehow some ungrateful God’s decided you just ought to survive? Because you were a damn fool who wished for an eventful life, and didn’t get that means a chaotic one where you’re never, ever at peace?!”

The Witch only seemed to get angrier, although that was likely because of the lightning, Wheatley reasoned. There’s no way something like that could understand a human anymore. If anything was left of Alice, it was beyond their reach. But that wasn’t the point, was it? Rita was screaming at the Witch for the same reason he’d confessed to it. It was concentrated misery and rage, and it didn't matter how they reacted to it. Rita just had to scream.

And what did he have to whine about? He wasn’t a Witch, and he hadn’t know the girl who was one now. He wasn't the one up there in the air, shouting through tears as she leaped from chain to chain, battling the flame creature on her own. Rita soared like an emerald shooting star, tossing green orb lightning at the Witch as energy crackled around her. At that rate…

At that rate, fighting like that, she would burn herself out. She would become a Witch too someday, and so would Craig, and Chell, and all the others who had gathered at Glados’s “experiment.” They were all in the same sinking ship, with the same sword hanging over their heads. It was just as hard for Rita, the fearless ‘Adventure Girl,’ as it was for him. Why hadn't he seen that before?

He stared over his shoulder again, struggling to no avail. Concentrating and shutting his eyes, he attempted to form a crystal barrier around himself, pushing against the glass bonds until they finally shattered. Screaming in pain as the broken bonds sliced up his arms, he fell to his knees, staring down at the crack forming in the beaker. It would take him too long to heal himself enough to be of any use to her against that Witch. Forcing himself to his feet, his arms at his side, he stared up at her again.

He wasn't fond of Rita. She was an arrogant jerk. But she needed help from someone right now, much more than he needed it, and the only one around to offer it was him.

Everything else seemed to fade as he watched her, concentrating as a soft blue glow filled his eyes.

* * *

 

“The Witch is angry.” Glados held out a hand to halt Chell, pointing to a river of mercury blocking their path. “I don’t know what’s happening, but this Labyrinth’s going to get worse until the Witch is dead. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s already drawing normal humans here to drown them.”

Chell didn't like the way Glados used the term ‘normal humans,’ but wasn’t sure she could argue the point anymore. As loathsome as the White Queen could be, she knew entirely too much about Witches. She had, after all, taught Chell everything she knew.

“You know,” Glados added, “you could probably escape if you wanted to. You've got that portal magic. Spatial magic is particularly effective at running away. You always were good at that.”

One shot. She just needed one shot, right to the forehead, and Glados’s Soul Gem would shatter like ice. She didn't know why she couldn't do it. Her hands just felt cold and limp as she held the gun. She couldn't murder a murderer.

Instead, she glared at the smaller girl as she opened portals across the mercury river, grabbing Glados by the arm and dragging her through. She swam through the space between spaces without looking this time, throwing Glados through the other side before she arrived.

“You’re still violent. Go figure.” Glados climbed back to her feet, pointing to a paper door marked with runes. “The Witch is up ahead. I wonder if she’s eaten that kid yet.”

“The hell were you doing with this!?”

“Well, if you know a Witch is going to appear, wouldn't it make sense to have as many magicians as possible in the area? This way,” Glados insisted in a flat tone as she dusted herself off, “someone’s sure to finish her off before she can hypnotize any bystanders and draw them into the bay. As for that boy, this would be a more merciful end for him, I’d think. Come, now, you wouldn't want to have to kill his Witch, would you?”

Chell had fallen silent again, an old coping tactic of hers. She held her gun to the back of Glados’s head, nudging her forward.  “Clean up your mess.”

Glados just looked over her shoulder again, yellow eyes narrowed, and stepped through the door. Paper door after paper door opened before them immediately, the walls burning away to reveal a chamber of rapidly rising mercury and test tubes suspended from the sky by chains. The chains were breaking one by one, the entire sky lit up with pink flame as a firebird-like creature did battle with something brilliant and blue.

“…That can’t be. Wheatley…?”

A movement caught her eye, and she noticed a figure kneeling on a crumbling, suspended glass beaker. No, that was Wheatley, giving off a soft blue glow. He looked eerily calm for someone very close to falling into a silver sea. But then, who was that fighting the Witch in the sky?

The soaring figure blazed right through the paper sky, sending debris floating down into the mercury. Blue light trailed after her like wings as she tore at the Witch with a chain, moving almost too fast to be seen by the eye. Chell only knew one magician with that style.

“…Rita?”

* * *

 

Alone. Alone. A hero is always left alone. The heroes of the books she read were orphans, children of misfortune, or adventurers sailing from island to island. Adventurers had no homes. They had no families. They moved through the world like volcanic eruptions, setting the world ablaze before burning out. A hero did not have a peaceful life. Those who found glory rarely found peace.

But Rita wasn't even a hero anymore, was she?

She fought half in a trance. Something had enveloped her body like a cocoon, carrying her through the air. The fire of the Witch Agora barely touched her, the shield swirling around her and keeping her safe. It wasn't her magic doing it. She was using every drop she had to keep herself aloft, leaping from chain to crumbling chain as she battled the flying Witch. It was too tiring to shout anymore, so she’d resorted to whispering. Not that it mattered. Alice couldn’t hear her.

“Hey, Alice, do you think I’ll turn into a Witch here, too? Is that how we end up?” She took a flying leap towards another chain, the strange magic carrying her aloft, whipping at the firebird's neck. “Because if so, I want you to know, I’m gonna be the best Witch this town’s ever seen. I ain't gonna let you top me at this. You don’t win this one.”

She could faintly hear voices below, and caught glimpses of orange and blue light below. None of it mattered. It didn’t matter if she survived this fight. She needed it. If she couldn’t be the hero who saved innocents, she could be the adventurer who burned brightly and turned into ash.

“Alice, what am I gonna tell your family, huh? All this time, I keep thinkin' you’re a weirdo, but you’re a savvy one. You were going to be one of the ones to make it. But isn't that kind of a ridiculous thought? Obviously none of us really make it. Obviously we all end up this. Don’t we, Alice…?”

Below, she saw a bright red shape leap right across the sea, grabbing the source of the blue light. Oh, that was Wheatley, wasn't it? And the red one must have been Craig. The others were watching her. They were going to watch her die. How appropriate. She’d better give them a fight worthy of a hero’s death.

* * *

 

“Wheatley, come on! Snap out of it!” Craig shook the taller boy as he landed on the edge of the chamber, a rapidly-shrinking piece of dry land surrounded by a bubbling sea. The blue Magi was still breathing and intact, but seemed to be caught in some kind of a trance, eyes glowing and vacant.

“It’s the magic he’s using.” The girl with the halberd took Wheatley’s limp hand for a moment, and then stared up to the sky. “It takes a lot of concentration.”

“...What? How do you know…?”

“She can detect what kind of magic people use,” the boy twin answered. He swung his halberd at a stray flame, all three of them backing up on the crumbling bit of earth. “It’s no use, though. The Labyrinth is going to swallow us.”

“Maybe she knew.” Craig looked up at the aerial battle even as he urged the younger Magi to move higher on their shrinking hill, moving Wheatley onto his shoulders. It was awkward to carry someone so lanky. “She realized what was going to happen to her, and it was troubling her, even if she didn't show it. It might have been breaking her heart by the end. I can only imagine that a heartbroken Magi would turn into a terrible Witch…”

“Are you scared?” Craig glanced down at the source of the voice, the young girl.

“…Yes.” He hated to lie, even in front of children. It was better to embrace a humiliating truth. “But not of this Witch. Rita has it handled. No, it’s what comes next…” He stopped himself, looking at the two. They weren't much older than Kevin.

He forced a smile. “Nevermind. Stay with me. We’ll get through this.”

* * *

 

Rita held onto the back of the firebird, the blue light mixing with its pink flames to bathe her in violet. She couldn't feel any pain anymore. Maybe this blessing would protect her until she died. Besides, she had a plan.

“Alice. Sorry about this. You really did deserve better.”

Raising her hookshot over her head, she wrapped it around herself and the firebird’s body. She held the chain aloft, concentrating and sending a massive blast of green electricity through all of it. It didn't hurt her, but she knew it wouldn't matter in a few moments.

The Witch, stunned, began to plummet into that silver sea.

“That’s it. I won’t be left alone again. I won’t-…!”

Something started to envelop her, something vivid and blue. She stared downwards as she started to sink right through the Witch’s body, drawn through some kind of darkness. This magic, she recognized.

“No, stop! Stop it! That’s not fair! Chell, you goddamn know-it-all, STOP! I can’t…!”

The portal drew her through the strange darkness and into the arms of someone she couldn't see, the blue light around her shattering. She reached out as the figure carrying her fled, just in time to see the body of the Witch explode into the mercury.

“I can’t take being left behind again!”

* * *

 

As the Labyrinth cleared, the Magi found themselves scattered across the harbor area as gentle snowflakes fell from the sky. The harbor had calmed itself. Wheatley had regained his mobility, steadying himself on Craig’s shoulder. The twins lingered behind them both. His arms and body ached, but he was getting used to that now. He could heal himself with magic.

Alice remained slumped against a crate, her empty husk motionless.

A single Grief Seed fell from the sky with a soft clink, and a white-gloved hand reached out to take it. “I will claim this as my payment from you,” Glados hissed at Wheatley, gently setting down the unconscious Rita. She held up Rita’s hand and offered the Grief Seed to her, and the girl’s troubled breathing evened to a gentle sleep.

The only other one not to make it out alive was, it seemed, the boy in dark blue. He didn’t even leave behind a body. Wheatley heard the twins crying behind him. He wanted to say something, but didn’t have the strength to speak.

Chell stood against a crate, battered and silent.

It was Glados who spoke first, standing next to the sleeping form of Rita, and pointing to Alice. “Do remember what you've witnessed tonight. Burn it into your mind and heart. This is the truth Kyubey will never tell us.  This is the worst secret and the most important lesson I can impart on you. This will happen to each and every one of us one day, unless we die. This is the end of a magician’s story. We give our lives to battle curses, only to curse the world ourselves in the end. Or that's the flowery way he puts it, anyway." 

“But…” That was Chell, her voice lacking her usual hard-edged confidence. “Why? Why is it like this? It doesn't…”

“Make any sense? No, it doesn't, although I supposed to the Incubator it does. He was going to let you find out by accident. But if you work with me, if you bring me Grief Seeds and help keep me alive, I’ll keep you alive as long as possible. That’s all we can do, you know. Hang on and stay alive in defiance of fate.” There was a hint of venomous affection to her tone.

She turned to Chell in particular, narrowing her eyes. “You can chose a different path like a so-called hero, but you won't last. None of you are strong enough to challenge fate on your own. I, however, intend to alter fate itself if it takes me a thousand years to do so.”

Taking hold of Rita’s arm again, she began to surround herself with shadowy mist. “If you don’t want to end up like the boy in blue there, I’d suggest bringing me a Grief Seed next week in payment. Remember, the longer I live, the closer we are to a solution. I hope you don’t have to die along the way.” The shadows swallowed herself, Rita, and what was left of Alice, and they vanished into the ground.

Wheatley forced himself to stand again, trying to think of something to say, but failing. He was sure he was fine. He just needed some rest. The smudge in his Soul Gem would go away in time. At times like this, he could lie to himself and say it was nothing to worry about.

There was not much else he could think to do when even Chell, brave Chell, was staring at her own Gem in terror.


	9. We can still save people.

_“I have to admit, I’m a little jealous.” Caroline sat down next to Chell, letting her own transformation dissipate in a wave of violet light. “I didn’t perform nearly that well when I first started. I was stumbling through everything. To be honest, if not for the White Court, I would probably have had a lot of trouble.”_

_Chell stared up at the sky, the warm summer breeze running through her hair. “It’s exhilarating. I mean, Rita described it, but I had no idea. I was scared, and yet, it felt right. This is what I was born to do, I know it. I can really protect people like Mom and Dad…” She held her hand aloft, gazing at the silver ring on her finger._

_“Isn’t magic wonderful?” Caroline picked up her notepad, writing something down. “I made a lot of observations about it today during the battle. Someday I want to understand everything about magic, so we can use it for more than just keeping ourselves safe and fighting Witches. I want to do more than protect the world from monsters, one day. I want to make it better.”_

_“Do you think such a thing is possible?” Chell brushed a lock of hair that had fallen over her own eyes, noticing that the cut on her hand from the battle was already healing up. “I mean, if there have been so many magi before us, wouldn't they have done so already?”_

_“So many people can try something, over so many years, and only one of them might succeed.” Caroline stood up, a smile on her face as she slipped her notes back in her shoulder bag. “Will you help me, Chell? Please don’t tell the White Queen about this. I don’t think she’d understand.”_

_“I’m fine with keeping secrets from her.” Everyone seemed to trust Glados enough to work with her, at least, but she struck Chell as something of a bully at best. She wondered if Caroline was a relative of the so-called Queen's, but didn't feel it was right to ask. “But what can I do to help? I’m not exactly a scientist myself…”_

_Caroline just smiled. “Just keep my secrets, okay?”_

* * *

The train ride home was silent, and the car in the back was mercifully empty. It would have been difficult to speak of what had just happened in code words and subtle references, if anyone had actually felt like talking.

Chell had managed to tear her eyes away from her Soul Gem, at least. She knew that led nowhere good. That was what she always remembered Glados doing, staring at her Gem and obsessing over her own life force. Chell didn’t join up to worry about her own death. She’d come to terms with the idea that she might not survive a battle early on, and Caroline’s fate had solidified that.

A death in battle had to be better than what happened to Alice, and countless other magicians whose names weren’t even known anymore.

The three of them sat without looking at one another, Craig idly playing with his smart phone, Wheatley staring out the window at the dark tunnels rushing by. No one knew what to say, and although the silence was suffocating and oppressive, Chell had neither the desire nor the energy to drown it out with meaningless chatter.

As it turned out, Wheatley had no such reservations. He turned around to face them, looking pale and gripping the edges of his jacket. “Well, alright, if no one’s going to talk, I’ll say it! I’ll say it. This is awful. This is absolutely not what I would have signed up for at all, if I’d have known. I’d go on being unremarkable and unchanging if I knew what I’d change into would be this. Or…that, what Alice became.”

“My brother had to be saved.” Craig spoke in a monotone, without looking up from his phone. “It doesn’t matter if I’m okay with it or not. I didn’t know the full story, but I still agreed to it. I still made a contract, even if I couldn’t read the fine print.”

Wheatley slammed a hand down on the empty seat next to him. “Not at all, mate! You can’t be blamed for not reading the fine print when the print’s not even there! I mean, what were we supposed to ask Kyubey? ‘Okay, this sounds like fun, but first, could you tell me if you’re going to stick my soul in a jar and turn me into a zombie? Bit concerned about that mate!’ Who even thinks that's a bloody possibility!?”

“Lich,” Craig interrupted in that same monotone. “Sorry. A zombie is a walking corpse.  A lich is a body animated by a bound soul. Or, well, we’re close enough.”

Wheatley stared at Craig for a second. “You are a nerd. And as I was saying! He didn’t tell us the things we were fighting were a preview of our futures. We were tricked! We should wring our contracts right out of him and demand he change us back.”

“The contract is final. You should have guessed that.”

Three faces turned up to glare at Kyubey, whose presence and interruption were entirely unwelcome. The creature appeared unconcerned, walking down the empty aisle to sit between the three. “It doesn’t matter if you’re happy with the contract or not. It can’t be undone. If I were to release your souls from the Soul Gem, you’d die instantly. And if that’s what you want, you can crush the Gem yourself. But wouldn’t that be a waste?”

Chell, her patience gone, reached out to grab Kyubey by the scruff of his neck, holding him aloft at arm’s length. “I hate you.”

“Oh, Chell! Long time no see. Don’t worry, we don’t experience something like hate.” Kyubey didn’t seem scared, either. Of course he didn’t, she reminded herself. There was no point in threatening Kyubey like this. Glados was right; their real boss was worse than her. “You don’t have to be so rude, though. I just came to answer any questions you might have.”

“Oh,” Wheatley snapped, “now you’re going to tell us stuff? Now that Glados blew the lid on your little operation, suddenly you’re Mister Open and Honest, aren’t you? How do I know you won’t just trick us further?”

“I didn’t trick you. I just omitted information and you didn’t ask for it. Come now, you didn’t ask me anything when you contracted.” Kyubey turned towards Wheatley, wriggling in Chell’s hand. “You just agreed to it after a few moments of hesitation, as long as I tied your destiny to hers.”

“Well you—“ Wheatley froze in mid-babble, turning bright red. He gave an awkward, shameful glance at Chell, and then looked away. Chell stared for a few moments, and filed it away as something else to worry about when she was feeling less overwhelmed.

She would, however, have words with him over that.

Kyubey managed to wriggle free, landing on an empty seat. “People might hesitate, thinking I’m unreal, but ultimately they’re always willing to trade their lives for the chance to alter reality. Everyone has something they want. It’s very useful to us. When you alter the world to an extent that wishes do, you should expect some kind of consequence.”

“Witches come from magicians.” Craig finally looked up from his phone, startling even Chell, and spoke evenly. “They spawn Familiars, which feed off of people to become Witches themselves. Magicians are created to fight Witches. You and whatever you are, you create magicians. So you brought Witches into this world in the first place, didn’t you?”

Kyubey just stared upwards for a second. “We had our reasons. Anyway, Craig, don’t you have something else to worry about besides your own fate? More is at stake.” He leaped down onto the walkway again. “Remember what I told you earlier? You of all people should know I spoke the truth. I hope I trusted the right person with that information.” He leaped up over a seat, and vanished from sight.

Chell felt as if her heart had deflated, all the anger she’d felt at the creature and his damned Contract leaving with him. She wasn’t sure what else to do or say. For someone who always wanted to be a leader, she sure was terrible at the pep talk part. No, that was always Rita who rallied the troops when spirits were down, and Caroline who offered comforting words. She just led them on. And now she didn’t know where to lead them.

“Um.” Wheatley was, as usual, the one to break the silence. “I’m sorry. About that wish, Chell. It was made in a moment of, um, I don’t know what it was. You were just amazing, and I thought I could be your prince or protector or sidekick, something stupid like that.” He wasn’t looking her in the eye, and was still bright red. “But it was ill-chosen, and creepy on my part, and if I could take it back…”

“Don’t.”

“…What?”

“I think I know why you made that wish.” Chell glanced at the ring on her finger, with its slight orange glow. “When Kyubey approached me, I just fell in love with the idea of being a hero. I thought I could be like Wonder Woman, or Amelia Earhart, or any of the famous women from fact and fiction my mom had told me about to inspire me. I wanted to be able to inspire others the way those heroes inspired me. So that was my wish.”

“…Well, that doesn’t seem so bad, I mean-“

Chell held up a hand to shut Wheatley up until she finished. “I didn’t figure it out for a few weeks, but once I started to suspect it, Kyubey explained it to me. It’s part of my magic. I stand out. People become infatuated with me, respect me, hate me, think I’m a problem, but they never really ignore me. It matters less at school, because it affects magicians more strongly. And it doesn’t seem to affect everyone. When I started fighting, the others were impressed with me, and I let it get to my head. Caroline in particular was willing to step aside and let me lead, even though she was more experienced. And I got her killed.”

“…Ohh.” Wheatley looked away again, and Chell sat still, anticipating another sputtering, indignant outburst. Craig, perhaps wanting to withdraw from a potentially awkward situation, had withdrawn to his smart phone again. Instead, however, Wheatley turned around again, making eye contact with her, sincerity and anger in his expression.

“No. Look. I know you might have some kind of glamour or whatever that distorted the way I see you, but I still made my wish. Of my own free will, alright? Look, I’ve started to realize that I’m bad at making decisions. In fact, I have a serial bad decision problem, which might just run in the family. But I made it, alright?” He held a hand to his chest for emphasis. “I’m not a child. I might have made a wish that altered your fate, and that was selfish and thoughtless of me, but I still made it myself. Please don't tell me that my feelings-well, no I mean, my will is-I'm not a moron, alright? I can make up my own bloody mind about these things."

Chell stared, having not expected that at all. Even Craig was looking up from his phone again, gawking. Wheatley, who seemed so eager to blame anything on anyone but himself, had claimed it for his own without tears or self-pity or anything. Maybe he was more grown-up than she thought, or maybe all of this was finally starting to change him.

“…Alright. We both agree we’re bad at wish-making, and call it that? Although I will add,” Chell pointed at Wheatley, “that is a pretty creepy wish. Don't get the wrong idea about it.”

“Um, yeah, right, of course! Of course. Wasn’t thinking that at all.” Wheatley blushed again, and Craig didn’t comment on what was true or lies, for once.

Speaking of Craig. “Hey,” she added, “what was Kyubey talking about?”

The boy scratched his head, adjusting himself in his seat. “He told me someone in this city had made a wish that would doom us all. I’m going to assume it’s neither one of you, since one of you following the other around like a puppy isn’t exactly world-threatening.” At least Craig had his snark back. “And it wasn’t poor Alice. Her Witch was taken care of. I don’t know much about Rita, or any of the other magicians, for that matter. Anyway, I’ll look into it, okay? I’ll have a lot of time over holiday break.”

“You should spend holiday break with your family,” Chell insisted in a gentle tone. “I should do that with mine, too. I don’t always have time for Mom, and she’s going through a hard time. I feel awful about it.”

Wheatley just crossed his arms. “Uncle hardly has time for me, magical gallivanting aside. But I guess you’re right. Hey!” He snapped. “We’re all feeling really rotten, and that’s the last thing we need, because ‘three Witches walk onto a train’ sounds like the start of a joke but the punchline won’t be funny. So why don’t we do something tomorrow after school? The mall, maybe, we could meet up there. It’s all decorated for the holidays, we can blend in with the crowds, and we can discuss things in a more cheery atmosphere. Or not discuss anything at all and just try to have fun. Because…because I don’t want to become a Witch, and I don’t want either one of you to, either.”

It sounded ridiculous, really. Going to the mall after finding out exactly how doomed all of them were. It would just be doing something ordinary friends would do together. It was just the kind of silly idea she could imagine him suggesting.

“Okay. Yeah. We’ll do that after school. Give me a little bit of time to meet you there, it’s a little walk from my school.” She was tired, and frightened, and wanted to at least pretend to do something like a normal teenager for a day. It reminded her of what she used to do with Caroline and Rita.

“Oh, excellent, good.” Wheatley wasn’t smiling yet, but at least some of the enthusiasm and light had returned to his eyes. Perhaps this was important to him. “Craig, you can make it too, right? I know you’ve got student government…”

“Um…” Craig fidgeted in his seat. “I can skip one session. Actually, I’m not sure if I should continue, with everything going on…but I’ll think about that later. But, uh, yeah. Hanging out, that’d be nice. I don’t get to hang out often with anyone.” The way Craig said the phrase 'hang out' made it sound foreign to him.

“See? See, we’re not…I mean, we’re fine as long as we keep our spirits up and keep hunting Witches. Forever, I guess.” Chell heard a little fracture in Wheatley’s voice, but he was doing a good job keeping a brave face up, anyway. “Besides, I…okay, this is going to sound a little cheesy, but Witches take people away, right? Lure ‘em away into death or whatever, and no one ever finds out what happens to them. Well, I know what it’s like. To lose someone, I mean. I know why Rita was so upset about losing Alice, because being left behind hurts, a lot.” His voice had softened now, and he was staring at the empty seat ahead of him. “So if one day I’m going to-if one day I might turn into a Witch and inflict that on other people, take away their parents or friends or whoever, I bloody well want to at least try to be a hero."

He fell silent, as if exhausted. Craig was staring, but still quiet, and Chell realized with dread that it fell to her to keep talking. Wheatley was good at running his mouth if nothing else, but it wasn’t fair to expect him to lead the conversation when they were all feeling down. So she took a deep breath, as an idea formed in her mind, one borne of anger and frustration, determination and a desire not to fail more friends.

“We can. We can still save people, even if we’re going to turn into Witches one day. I still believe this. I wouldn’t keep it up if I didn’t think we were doing good.” Her voice was hoarse, but she kept going, as Craig and Wheatley stared at her. “Right now, as we are now, we have powerful magic and we’re nearly indestructible. We can’t waste that by hiding and sulking in our misery, or cowering in the shadows from the White Court. Why should-why should SHE get to dominate everyone, anyway? We can provide an alternative, you know. We can help others who are pulled into this. Let them know they’re not alone. I mean, I can’t say they have nothing to fear, but they’re not alone.”

She paused to catch her breath, turning a bit red. That was a little cheesy, she knew it, and she wasn’t entirely sure what she was getting herself into. She did know that if she clung to this idea, held onto it with all of her might, she’d be able to keep going for at least a little while longer.

“I…think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you say in one setting,” Wheatley commented. “No offense! No offense. I agree with you, I think. I mean, what else can we do?”

“The only other option,” Craig said softly, “is to give up, and we know where that leads us. Or to work under her boot, and I’d rather never see her again.”

Well, whatever Chell had gotten herself into, there was no backing out of it now. “Alright. Craig, you can keep researching that information Kyubey gave you, right? I’ll keep an eye out for new magicians. I don’t know what I’ll tell them, because they might not believe us if we told them the truth, but we can try to offer support and protect them from Glados. Wheatley, you…” Wait, what was she going to suggest for him? He still wasn’t the best combatant, and she didn’t want to trust him as a lookout. “You practice, alright? Try to figure out how to master your powers.”

“Like that spell you used,” Craig added.

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Wheatley sounded a little hurt, but didn’t seem to be pushing the matter. “Believe me, I don’t want to be dead weight. I can improve myself, I promise. –Say what, mate?”

“You used some kind of magic on Rita. She was fighting that two-stage boss as if she couldn’t feel any pain, and-“

Wheatley tilted his head at Craig. “Two-stage boss?”

It was Craig’s turn to stop short and look awkward. “Uh, I mean, Alice’s Witch. She started off as a shape shifting flame figure, and then turned into a firebird. See, some video game bosses-forget it, I’m getting off topic.” He shook his head. “But Rita was surrounded by blue light when she fought like that, and you looked like you were concentrating or kneeling. One of the magicians with me said it was your magic.”

“…Ohh. Oh, right…” Wheatley frowned, trying to concentrate. “It’s a little fuzzy. I was worried about her, even if I didn’t like her very much. I didn’t want her to die. So I figured she needed my defensive magic better than I did, and I guess I just really wanted to help her. And then that happened.” He shrugged. “I make shields on myself, I’m sure it means I can shield others, right?”

Chell recalled the image of Rita soaring through the air, held aloft by blue wings and fighting like an avenging angel. If Wheatley’s magic did that, well, it had to mean something. “Keep practicing that. Try to figure out what it is. We might need it someday.”

“Um.” The expression on Wheatley’s face suggested he was slightly uncomfortable, but he nodded. “Alright. I’ll figure out what it is! Just need a bit of experimentation, right?”

It was ridiculous, Chell thought, how their spirits were lifting just from having a goal. It was artificial, just an adrenaline rush to focus on instead of the dire nature of their situation. It had to be that. But if that was all she had, if it would help stave off the transformation for just a little while longer, she’d take it.

“Thanks,” she added finally, looking right at Wheatley.

“Oh, it’s nothing, nothing. I mean, it’s not too hard for me to practice. I should anyway, it isn’t as if I have a lot of after-school activities, and winter break is coming up. Plus Uncle is never home, so really I have all the time in the world on my hands...”

“No,” she interjected, knowing she’d have to interrupt to get a word in. “Thanks. For protecting Rita. I want to save her, if I can.”

Wheatley stopped in mid-ramble, deflating and then turning slightly rosy. “Oh, no problem at all. I mean, she’s not my favorite person by a long shot. Bit of a prat really, but she’s important to you, right? She was lying, the stuff she was saying in that fight about no one caring if she died or whatever. You would, right?”

“Wait…” Chell reached out to grab Wheatley’s sleeve, barely registering how the boy froze up when she did. “Wait. What did Rita say…?”

* * *

 

At the far end of the train car, the air shifted slightly, unnoticed by the other Magi. Cloaked by invisibility, the boy dressed as a prince carefully took note of everything he heard, sending messages to the one person he knew would want to hear them.

* * *

 

“So, they’re going to try that, then.” Glados glanced over the messages on her computer, her parasol protecting it from the falling snow. “Play chess with me? They’re not the first to try, I’m sure they realize that. Or maybe they don’t.” She smirked. “Well, more fun for me, right, Rita?”

Rita’s head was propped up by a pillow, and she was covered in a blanket, lying sprawled out on the roof. She gazed at Glados with bleary eyes. “Why did she save me?”

“Hmm?”

“Chell. That was her portal magic.” Rita sounded muffled, her face half-muffled in the pillow. “I didn’t ask her to save me. I thought she’d be glad to finally be rid of me.”

“Oh, that. I asked her to save you, of course.” Glados smiled as sweetly as she could manage, offering Rita an energy bar. “Here, get some strength back into you. Rita, you know you can’t die on me, right? How would I stay safe without you? You’re my bodyguard.”

Rita closed her eyes again, looking away. “Mm. I couldn’t save Alice. Don’t know why you trust me.”

“No one could have saved Alice. She doomed herself with her own wish. The police will find her body and assume she had an accident and fell into the harbor. Believe me, if I had told her the truth, she wouldn’t have believed me. You wouldn’t have, would you?”

There was no reply from the Korean girl hiding in blankets. The energy bar remained untouched.

“Well, get some sleep until your body repairs itself, anyway. Don’t go doing stupid risky things like that again. I’d hate to have to kick you out. I mean, then you’d be all alone, right?”

She was answered with more silence. Rita had fallen asleep again, her Soul Gem giving off a green pulse as it continued to heal her. Glados turned away, yellow eyes narrowing, and looked over her shoulder.

“Penelope.”

A red bird landed on the roof, its form twisting and growing until it reshaped itself into the form of the chakra-wielding girl from the harbor. Penelope knelt in front of Glados, red hair falling in front of her eyes.

“Oh my God, you don’t have to do that just because I call myself White Queen. How many times do I have to tell you? It’s embarrassing for both of us.” Glados dropped the sarcastic act in a flash, expression taking on an icy edge. Too suspicious to trust Rita not to listen in, she switched to telepathy to communicate with Penelope.

_It’s Rita. She’s starting to show signs of instability. She’s no good to me as a Witch. If it continues, you know what to do._

Penelope glanced over at Rita, and then nodded, wrapping herself up in red light and transforming into a bird again. Glados smiled to herself. She liked Penelope and Alex. They were loyal, effective, and didn’t ask many questions. Sometimes, Kyubey chose well.

Returning to her laptop, she typed out another message for Alex, who was helpfully relaying information to her on Chell and her little rejects.

_I need Chell alive and intact as long as possible, if my theories are correct. I really don’t care about the tall stupid one. But give me more information on Craig Wilson, if you can. The last thing I need is a snoop who isn’t working for me._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just gonna post a few chapters in a row now, so enjoy!


	10. I'm sure it's normal.

 The Witch melted away with a last, pained laugh, its Labyrinth of dominoes and mathematical equations giving way to an abandoned subway tunnel. Catherine leaned against a support pillar, ignoring the skittering rats and unidentified liquid noises. She shivered and pulled her hand away from her side, revealing a dark red stain in her red and white gown. “Must’ve gotten careless,” she mumbled to herself as she pulled out a red Soul Gem, hoping its dim light would be enough to help her find the dropped Grief Seed in the darkness.

“Come on, come on. Where is it. I need it…” She’d used up too much magic already, and she knew it. Months of looking over her shoulder expecting the worst had poisoned her Gem with paranoia and fear, and it darkened entirely too quickly for comfort nowadays. Even if it meant going out late at night, venturing to places she knew would be too dangerous for anyone but a magician, she had to keep hunting.

There it was. Glittering in the faint red light, the black Soul Gem had landed near a pile of debris, and there were rats sniffing at it. She waved a hand to shoo off the rats, holding back a scream. It didn’t matter how many Witches and horrors she’s faced, she’d always hate rats.

Most of them scattered at her approach, but one remained, looking right up at her with red eyes. The whole creature was bright scarlet, in fact, and much cleaner than the normal rats. Catherine knew in a moment who it was, and staggered back. “No, no, no, not you, please…”

Scarlet light filled the room for a second as the rat changed shape back into a tall girl with curly red hair, spinning a chakram on one finger as the other hand held up the Soul Gem. “Are you looking for this, Catherine?”

“Penelope.” Catherine clutched her Gem to her chest until it transformed back into a brooch, slowly raising her silver crossbow. “Stop. I need that. You know-you _know_ what will happen if…”

“So, the hunter gets his orders from the Queen.” Penelope was casually walking in a circle, as if daring Catherine to fire and waste more precious magic. “He goes to find Snow White, but takes pity on her and lets her go, and he goes to bring the Queen a cow’s heart instead. Or I guess in this case it was a Grief Seed, right? The Grief Seed of any damn Witch.”

They knew. Of course they knew. It was only a matter of time. Catherine’s hand was starting to feel a bit numb, and the sensation was spreading to her arm. “I swear, I thought it was him! I thought it was him! And then…I didn’t sign up for this to kill anyone! I wanted to save people!”

“Killing him would have saved a lot of people, trust me. But you backed out, didn’t you? The moment you realized you’d been tricked, you decided to just let it go instead of owning up to your mistakes. The Queen would have understood, you know! Glados knows everyone makes mistakes.” The tone in Penelope’s voice suggested she knew this was false just as Catherine did, and simply didn’t care.

The Grief Seed was tantalizingly close. One good shot could knock it from her hand. But Catherine had fought Penelope before, and had no desire to repeat the experience of facing a storm of claws, teeth, feathers, and talons. “I don’t want to kill anyone! We’re not supposed to be killing each other! Not for any reason! You’re-you go to school with me, Penelope! How can you do this to me?!” One good shot. Just one good shot.

“Let’s just say I like her style. Besides, it’s all about survival of the fittest around here. You know that.” Penelope clutched the Seed tightly in her hand. “I’m sick and tired of weaklings like you getting by and stealing prey from the strong ones! Who do you think is going to survive when the big Witches come along, huh? Who do we want on the front lines? People like you who get soft-hearted the moment they have to act for the good of the city?” Penelope grinned, showing off fangs. “Or predators like me?”

“He didn’t do anything wrong! He’s just an oracle!” Catherine’s voice was starting to crack, and her vision was distorting. She knew the colors swimming around Penelope couldn’t be real, that the little voice whispering to her to  _just let go, give up, this is the end of the line_ was either a hallucination or proof that Alex was here, too. Was this what it felt like?

“You really believe an illusionist? You think you can trust him?!” Penelope’s eyes seemed to glow for a moment as her notorious temper flared. “Glados saved you when you were a helpless nobody! You would have been a smear on the sidewalk in a matter of days without her! And you have the nerve to—“

One red energy arrow fired off, briefly filling the tunnels with even more scarlet light. It was the last shot Catherine had enough magic for, one more, desperate attack. It missed by half an inch.

Penelope stared, and then burst out laughing as Catherine fell to her knees, trembling. “You can’t even shoot me from here? Well! I told her she should have sent me in the first place. But no, she wanted to test your loyalty. You broke her heart when she found out you lied, you know. You broke her heart.”

Catherine’s vision blurred with tears as she opened her hands, her Soul Gem manifesting in her hands. She’d gone too far, and her fear and hopelessness were only magnifying the effect. The Gem was almost black. She stared up at Penelope with an empty gaze, holding up the Gem in one last, desperate attempt to appeal to Glados’s assassin.

Penelope, however, merely glared and laughed again. “Oh man, am I ever lucky! Here I thought I’d have to finish you off myself. Instead…” She pocketed the Soul Gem and summoned a second chakram, staring at something forming above Catherine. “Guess I’ll have a Grief Seed to keep for myself, too…”

* * *

 

_We are going to become Witches. It will happen to Craig, and Rita, and myself, and it will even happen to Chell. I will see her become a Witch someday, and there is nothing I can do about it._

These were the thoughts occupying Wheatley’s mind as he roused himself for school, showered, dressed in his itchy school uniform, and gathered his books. Really, going to school felt a bit pointless. What was he going to use all this algebra and geometry for? His future? The one where he died fighting a Witch, or lost himself to whatever was growing in his Soul Gem? The one where he never aged and just went on fighting Witch after Witch forever, altering his body to match his mind so it didn’t drive him mad? It wasn’t as if he felt like he got much out of school. All the information he was forced to digest never seemed to last. It drifted right back out of his mind the moment he didn’t need to repeat it like a parrot in order to pass a test.

And yet there he was, scowling at a note explaining that yes, of course Cave had left early and wouldn’t be back until late. There he was fixing himself a cheese sandwich to bring for lunch, wolfing down two bagels as his breakfast, and checking his watch to make sure he’d make it on time if he walked. There he was, walking to school through a gentle snow fall, wondering if the weather would net them a half day.

The little things that shouldn’t have mattered at all still mattered, somehow. Other, less dire thoughts started to invade his mind, drowning out the sense of doom.  _I wonder if Chell is mad at me about that wish. I’d be mad at me. We’re still going to the mall after school, right? We’ll probably have to wait for Craig. He said he was going to skip Student Government, but I’m sure he won’t. I hope the snow doesn’t mess with the bus routes._

And somehow, on the walk to school, when those dire memories of his own nature returned, he managed to soften them willfully. Surely not everyone became a Witch, right? If Kyubey was correct, he could live a very long time if he played his cards right. So could his friends, at that. And Glados did have a cruel habit of lying and exaggerating in order to demoralize those she disliked. Maybe there was more to the story. If Rita was to be believed, Alice had been doing some stupid things for a while before she transformed. Surely there had to be a way out of the system. Everything had an escape somewhere.

And as he went over it and justified it, smoothing the edges with denial, the sharpness of the terrible idea grew dull.  _I will become a Witch_ became  _I might become a Witch if I’m not careful,_ and then devolved into  _I will not become a Witch because I don’t deserve it, and neither do my friends._ And even though he knew in the pit of his stomach that it was a lie, it was one he clung to fiercely, one that gave him the guts to enter the school gate that day and pretend everything was just fine.

* * *

 

“And I don’t think the lines are even that bad, comparatively speaking!  Could be worse, you know. Could be a lot worse.  I mean, we missed that ‘Black Friday’ or whatever you call it, that probably helps. Anyway, I don’t have a lot of shopping to do anyway. We don’t do a lot for Christmas, I mean Uncle and I. Or Hanukkah, for that matter.  At least, we didn’t do much last year. I forget, which way is the food court? That’s near where she wanted to meet us, right?”

Chell could tell Wheatley was talking to keep everyone’s mind off of what they were all thinking about anyway, and she appreciated the effort, even if it probably wasn’t working. She had half expected him to collapse into a heap emotionally, leaving her and Craig to drag him out of it, but he at least seemed to be trying to keep it together. Craig, for his part, was concentrating on his smartphone, and Chell wondered if that was something he did when he was nervous.

Everyone had their coping strategies. Wheatley talked about nonsense. Craig searched Amazon for wishlists and overthought Christmas presents. Chell, who simply could not turn off her combat mentality anymore, scanned the crowd for a certain familiar face.

Rita had agreed to meet them on her own, and she wasn’t a very good liar. But Rita also worked for Glados, and it would not have surprised Chell if she’d been followed. Still, there was no sign of her former friend amid the busy shoppers flooding the Galleria, crowding around an overpriced candy shop or waiting in line at electronics stores.

“I wonder if she’s coming,” Chell heard herself say aloud, and Wheatley’s rambling stopped. He was apparently learning to listen instead of talking over others, which she appreciated as someone who didn’t like having to compete for a chance to speak.

“Uh, well,” he stammered, “she said she would, right? I mean, she’s awfully blunt. I’d think if she didn’t want to talk to you, she’d have sent you a rude message or something.”

“She might think I’m trying to trap her.” Chell thought she spotted a girl with short black hair, but it wasn’t Rita. Rita wouldn’t be caught dead in a sweater, anyway. “Especially since I asked her to show up alone, and you two are here.”

“Oh come on now, what are we, your enforcers or something?” Wheatley laughed nervously. “She has nothing to worry about from me, that’s for sure. And Craig-Craig? You there, mate?”

The shorter young man startled and looked up from his phone, having the good grace to sound embarrassed. “Sorry. Trying to find out which shops will stock the telescope I want to get Kevin. I looked up the best model for what I can afford to spend online, but I want to see if one of the stores here might have it.”

Wheatley stared. “Why are you looking that up on the internet? We’re at the mall.”

“It’s more precise this way.” Craig pocketed his phone, and then looked straight ahead, blinking. “Isn’t that Rita up there?”

Chell followed his gaze and spotted her leaning next to the elevator doors, her face partially covered by a Dallas Cowboys cap. Rita always did like that stupid hat, perhaps out of some sense of Texas pride. She was wearing a heavy jacket, and looked up when they got close enough. She looked exhausted.

Remembering what Wheatley had seen in Alice’s Labyrinth, Chell frowned.

“Yo.” Rita waved one hand unenthusiastically. “I’m here, okay? I don’t really want to be, but you’re just gonna persist if I say no, ain’t you?”

“She’ll probably ask me to find you,” Wheatley said cheerfully. “I’d annoy you until you gave up and came to meet her.”

That seemed to make Rita crack half a smile, at least, although her expression reverted after a few seconds. “I only want to talk to Chell, though. We got old business. You boys buzz off for a while, okay? Do whatever it is guys do together when they hang out in groups, I don’t care.”

Rita, Chell reflected, was as polite as ever. Chell gave the two boys an apologetic look over her shoulder.

“Uh, it’s fine, don’t worry about us!” Wheatley waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll help Craig find his microscope or whatever.”

“Telescope. But yeah, Chell, it’s alright.” Craig seemed a little surprised, but not hurt. “You have things to talk about. We’ll get something to eat on our own and meet up with you later. Just text us when you’re done.”

‘Or if there’s any trouble,’ Chell added mentally, and gave the boys a grateful nod. “Thanks. I’ll catch up with you. Good luck shopping.”

As Rita started walking and wordlessly gestured for Chell to follow, Chell thought she overheard Wheatley ask, “what DO guys do together when they hang out in groups…?”

* * *

 

Rita hadn’t said a word in line, had only spoken up to give her order, and there had been a strange edge to her voice when she did. Only when the two were seated and Rita peeled foil from her chicken burrito did she start to sound a little like the girl Chell had once known.

“Authentic Tex-Mex my ass. Look at this shit! White rice. And their ‘hot’ salsa’s pathetic. And who even offers to put ranch sauce on a burrito? Yankees, man, I tell ya.” She bit into the burrito nonetheless, not waiting to swallow before she spoke up again. “Okay, you called me out here, so what’s the deal? You think I’m gonna squeal on Glados or something?” She stopped to take a swig of Mountain Dew. “I’m not thrilled with her right now, but that ain’t enough to turn me traitor.”

If it had been anyone else but Rita, Chell would have figured she wanted a one-on-one conversation to put Chell on the spot. Chell had always been good at sports and academics alike, but interpersonal communication was not a strong point of hers. Still, this had been her own idea, and she had to follow through with it. “Wheatley told me what you said in the Labyrinth.”

Rita stopped for a second, mouth full of tortilla and rice.

“You know,” Chell continued, “the whole bit about how you couldn’t protect people and you just wanted to…I don’t even like to think about it. I mean, we know what happens to us if we break down, now.” She briefly fingered the ring form of her Soul Gem, her pasta salad largely untouched. “I know we’re not exactly friends anymore, but I guess I still want to make sure you’re okay.”

Rita swallowed a too-large mouthful, coughing and chugging down some soda to ease herself. “Yeah! Uh, I mean, yeah, I’m fine. Look, I got stressed out because of what happened to Alice. Which wasn’t Glados’s fault, by the way, before ya go pointing fingers. Alice was a nice girl, but she did a lot of dumb shit even by my own standards. If that hadn’t happened to her, she would have gotten her ass killed one way or another.” She didn’t sound very convinced herself. “Besides, what can I do? It doesn’t matter if I’m alright or not. I’m useful to Glados, so she’ll make sure nothing happens to me even if I want it to, trust me. You should know, she made you drag me through your damn rabbit hole portal, didn’t she?”

Chell took a deep breath. “…No, she didn’t’ say anything, I’m sorry. We just stared since we couldn’t get up there, and you were moving too fast for my portals to keep up. Then when I realized what you were going to do, I just…I didn’t want to see anyone else die that day, Rita. I don’t want to see anyone else die.” She felt her throat catching and she forced herself not to cry. She would not cry when she was trying to help someone else. “I mean, I’m tired of it too, you know?  It isn’t as if I haven’t been tempted to give up and join the Court again, so I didn’t have two unbeatable enemies…”

Rita’s eyes narrowed. “What, so sticking with the Court’s the cowardly thing now? Not all of us can run around charming everyone we meet.” When Chell winced, Rita’s expression tone relaxed just a little bit. “Okay, that was mean. I get it, you can’t help that power of yours.  But I mean, you’re…you’re significant. People meet you and think that, right? I’m pretty sure even Glados is under it, which is why she keeps bothering you instead of just letting you die.” She left the burrito half-eaten in the foil.

“Me, though? I’ve seen what happens when we don’t have leaders. Before I came to this town, I kind of bounced from city to city, hunting Witches wherever I could. Solo magical girls and boys staked out territories, and if there were too many, they’d feud for Grief Seeds. It was goddamn anarchy in some places.” Rita pointed at Chell with a foil burrito. “I’m telling you, that’s what’s gonna happen if you keep on trying to undermine the Court. We’re all scared and desperate, and we’ll turn on one another and fight for scraps of Witch. The Court’s awful, I know, but the alternative’s worse.”

Chell had been trying to catch glances at Rita’s Soul Gem in the meantime, to no avail. If she was able to walk around and talk coherently, it couldn’t be too far gone, at any rate. “Why does that have to be our choices, though? A tyrant ‘queen’ or a self-interested free-for-all? I mean, I know she keeps the assholes in line, but it’s at the expense of people who don’t deserve it. People like Alice.” She took a deep breath. “People like Caroline.”

As soon as Chell said it, she knew she’d made a mistake. Rita’s hand slammed against the table, and the Texan stood right up. “Shut the hell up about Caroline! Don’t try to pin her on Glados! She stepped aside to make you leader of our stupid little trio because in her glamour-addled eyes, she thought you knew what the hell you were doing. I would have kicked anyone’s ass for her, I would have done  _anything_  for her, but…”

The anger died in Rita’s eyes, replaced by something distant and tired. “It turned out like it always does when I try to protect someone. So I’m protecting someone who can’t die on me. A hero protects a princess. I’m a failure as a hero, but at the least I can be a proper knight.”

“Rita, wait-“

She turned around, the burrito forgotten. “Look, I understand you think you can save me, but you can’t. I’ve made my choices, alright? It’s not that I don’t think you could pose a threat to the Court. It’s that I don’t think you’re ready to fill her shoes. You think it’s bad now, just wait until she’s gone…”

With that, the other girl marched off, leaving Chell sitting at a table, staring awkwardly down at uneaten food while passerby wondered if they’d just witnessed a breakup.

_No, don’t get angry again. Don’t get frustrated. If you’re going to be a leader, you need to learn how to communicate properly. Learn from this. What set her off. Caroline? It was Caroline, right? She was jealous of Caroline’s attention. Which meant…_

“Oh, Rita,” Chell whispered, her hands starting to shake. Rita’s loyalty to the Queen would kill her unless Chell proved herself to be a better alternative, not just a ‘nicer’ one. She suspected some of the more honorable Court Magi would feel the same way. How could she even do that? Surely there had to be more to her than just a glamour. Surely Wheatley and Caroline had seen something else in her, even if she couldn’t see it herself. Right?

*Rita! There’s trouble down at the parking garage!*

Chell’s head snapped up. She hadn’t gotten around to teaching either of the rookie Magi in her tiny “court” how to use the telepathy Magi shared yet. How had Craig learned it? 

*No time to explain. Please hurry!*

She stood up, hurriedly dumped out the contents of her tray, and prepared to run with drink in hand until she realized just how difficult and dangerous that might be in a mall packed to the brim with holiday shoppers.

“Oh, hell…”

* * *

 

_0 results for “Puer Magi.”_

_0 results for “Puella Magi.” Did you mean ‘paella?’_

_771,000,000 results for “magic.”_

Craig was quickly losing patience with the normally-reliable Google. Considering how many things one could find on the internet that didn’t exist, how was it possible something existed and yet had no presence on the internet?

“…Which is what we usually did during the holidays, you know, I’d celebrate Christmas with my parents but before then I’d visit my gran on Mum’s side and we’d celebrate Hannukah. I used to figure everyone did that when I was very young, so I got confused when-you listening , mate?”

Craig’s head snapped up, and guilt tied his stomach into some lovely knots. He’d been assuming Wheatley had been filling up the silence with his usual motor mouth chatter, and here the other boy had actually been sharing personal information. “Uh, sorry, Wheatley. I was just getting caught up in looking for gift ideas.” He pocketed his phone, once again glad that his Soul Gem didn’t detect his own lies.

“You’re tied to that thing, mate! Not good for you, I bet it melts your brain after a while. Read about that on the internet.” Wheatley reached up to his face as if to adjust glasses he no longer wore, right before his big hand dropped back to his side. His flushed cheeks suggested that he had indeed taken some offense, but to Craig’s guilty relief, Wheatley covered it with a cheerful grin a second later. “Well, it’s fine, I mean here we haven’t had much time to get to know one another and instead I’m just nattering on about this and that other thing you probably don’t care about. I figured this would be good to liven the mood, though, right? You know, all this.”

“It’s a little crowded,” Craig admitted. They’d stopped to grab food and had somehow managed to commandeer a bench, but Craig felt like he had to shout in order to be heard at all. “Also, not to nitpick here, but I’m not sure caramel popcorn is a lunch.”

 Wheatley scowled. “It’s made from corn, it’s food! Besides, a smoothie isn’t a meal, either! It’s a beverage. You get a smoothie with something, not by itself with…protein powder. Ugh.”

 Craig set aside the urge to curse all tall people with speedy metabolism. “At least it has actual nutritional-nevermind. Sorry, I’m just kind of tense.” His shoulders slumped. “I wish I could be like you, just bounce right back from everything and shed it away. Uh, that’s not to say you’re being insensitive. Just, I sort of envy that optimism of yours.” One could also call it foolhardy in the face of what they’d learned the other day, but Craig was trying to be a friend to the awkward foreigner.

When he looked at Wheatley, though, he thought he saw something fracture in the other boy’s hapless grin. “Oh, well, you know, what can you do about it? If we dwell on it, it’s not going to make things better, is it? Focus on what we’ve got. I’m not letting it bother me, that’s all.” That smile didn’t match his eyes.

“…I mean, it’s okay if it does bother you. Especially since you made a wish for someone else.” Craig found something inside of him opening up before he realized what he was saying. “I’m sure it’s normal to feel a little resentful if you give your life for somebody else with nothing in return, right?”

The smile vanished. “I’m fine with the wish. I’m fine with it.” Craig winced at the edge Wheatley’s voice had taken, and at the way his own Soul Gem flickered to indicate a lie. Still, after a second the scowl melted away, replaced with that same not-quite-happy smile. “It’s not her fault. I was just kind of dazzled by her, that’s all. I mean, I still find her dazzling to be honest, and I really don’t think it’s because of her magic like she claims. She’s talented and confident and pretty, and even if she might not like me back, I still like being around her. Surely you’ve felt that for a girl before?”

Craig took a deep breath, preparing the same carefully-rehearsed answer he gave whenever anyone asked him about ‘girls,’ but then let it go. No need to keep lying to someone when they needed to trust him in a fight, after all. “I wouldn’t know. Not really into girls.” This was not something he was particularly open about in a Catholic school.

Wheatley’s eyes widened a bit, but to Craig’s relief, he waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, my mistake! Uh, how embarrassing, eh? For me, I mean, making assumptions, making an ass of me and…umption.” He cleared his throat. “Boys, then? Or you know. You know what I mean. Well, either way, I’m getting off topic. I don’t blame her for it, I mean. I’m…to be honest, I’m pretty sure I would have wished for some damned stupid thing or another sooner or later anyway. Say, mate, can we not talk about my wish? No offense, but I sort of came here to forget about my imminent death.”

The guilt-web in Craig’s stomach tightened, and his peach smoothie started to taste sickeningly sweet.

“Is it alright if I talk about mine?”

“I mean it’s not that I’m scared or anything, well no, I am, but if I spend too much time dwelling on it I’m sure I’ll turn into a Witch faster because if I think about the fact that—“ Wheatley paused, eyes widening. “Uh…sure. Go on, mate. I really don’t know much of anything about you, to be honest.”

“Ah, that’s probably because I don’t talk much about myself even to the Student Government,” Craig admitted. “I have an image to maintain. I’m the perfect student who never makes mistakes and would certainly never regret a selfless act for selfish reasons. I know that sounds egotistical and I guess it kind of is, but that’s the kind of image I try to project. I figure that’s the kind of leader our class wants to follow, the inspiring kind.” Student Government was, of course, of the utmost importance in a young student’s life. Craig was certain of that much. “Um, more importantly, my parents worked really hard to get me into St. Aperture’s, since they went to a rough public school, and for a long time it looked like Kevin might not make it to adulthood. So I wanted to make sure they had a son who would reward all their hard work.”

_A son who would then disappear without a trace one day, either dying to a Witch or becoming one._ Craig tried to ignore the tightness in his chest and the lump in his throat. Bad enough he was admitting weakness, his sense of pride would crumble if he actually cried in front of Wheatley. Again.

Wheatley himself suddenly looked a bit uncomfortable, rubbing his elbows. “Right! Of course you want to succeed when people have worked hard to get you where you are, especially when you have role models who you look up to. Who have expectations of you. Very important, yes.” Craig raised an eyebrow, but didn’t push the point.

“So see, someone like that? He’d never feel regret over giving his life for another, especially someone he loves. And I love my little brother, I love him so much. Hell, I bet if Kyubey had approached Mom or Dad, they would have wished for the same thing. But now that I have it…” Craig resisted the urge to reach for the phone. No retreating back to the phone when it got bad. He’d say it aloud, and it would seem so ridiculous to him that he’d know it was untrue.

“I’m jealous. Of Kevin. He’s coming home tomorrow, and I know it’s going to be awkward, because everyone will be talking about how he must have a guardian angel or something like that. And I’m going to know in the back of my head that it came at the price of my life, and I won’t be able to tell anyone in my family, ever. He’ll go on living whatever future he wants because that’s the Wish I made for him, and I’ll…”

Craig felt a large hand on his shoulder, and stopped staring at his own lap to turn to Wheatley who had finally let the forced smile drop. Instead, he was just looking over at Craig with those huge eyes of his, tone a bit nervous. “Um, look. I’m just saying, you don’t have to be perfect. I mean, I don’t think I can expect anyone to be perfect! I’m far from it. I’m sort of trying not to spend all my time dwelling on my own problems because I’m sure other people have them too, even if I’m bad at noticing them. So I mean, it’s okay to have problems, I guess, and express them when I’m too thick to notice…I think that’s what I’m getting at. I don’t know what I’m getting at. Sorry.”

Maybe that’s why Craig felt so comfortable admitting his weakness around Wheatley. As much as the guy talked, he was just so earnest, and even if that optimism of his wasn’t entirely factual, it wasn’t bad to cling to that kind of lie. Wheatley didn't quite get it, but it was a start. “Um, thanks, Wheatley. I’m fine, really. Like I said, I’m probably worried about nothing, and…oh, wait.”

He knew that feeling, and holding up his flashing Soul Gem ring confirmed it. “That’s odd, I thought Witches liked gathering in places with a lot of unhappy people, not crowded shopping malls.”

“Not so hasty there,” Wheatley said, “lots of reasons to be unhappy during the holidays! Lines, frustration, maybe you don’t have a lot of money, maybe your parents died in December and winter just makes you depressed and your uncle probably finds it just as depressing but you don’t talk about it because you’re supposed to be happy at Christmas, that’s why they call it Happy Christmas.” Before Craig could ask about that last bit, Wheatley was up on his feet. “Well, what do we do? Should we interrupt Chell? It seems like talking to Rita was important to her, be a shame to cut that short…”

Wheatley was deferring the decision to Craig, which, Craig supposed, made him second-in-command of their tiny little ‘Court.’ “I think we can handle it. It’s just one Witch, right? Besides, there’ll be times when we can’t all fight together, and we need to learn to work with one another. Our powers are complimentary enough. I’ll take close-range offense and you use those barriers to protect me and that crystal thing to, uh…”

“I don’t think I should use the crystal bit thing,” Wheatley mumbled as Craig started weaving through the crowd.

* * *

The Witch had settled in a murky area of the parking garage. “Huh,” Craig muttered, “so it really did find a gloomy place in a crowded mall. Fact: with all the people around here, it could feast.” He shuddered, transforming in a flash of red light and looking over his shoulder to make sure Wheatley was following.

“Come on,” he added, “we just can’t think about what it is, that’s all. We can’t let ourselves die, and more importantly, it’ll kill a lot of people if we leave it alone.” As he stepped into the labyrinth, Craig found himself wondering if he was comforting himself more than Wheatley. “It’s just a ghost…”

The labyrinth was a snow-covered forest of enormously tall trees, branches heavy with apples red as fresh blood, and glowing eyes peered out from the distant shadows. Craig heard Wheatley nattering on nervously behind him. “Right, just a snow witch, then? Apple witch? Snow, apples, I feel like there’s a connection there but I’m not sure what it is…uh, say, who’s that up ahead? I know I just heard a voice…”

Craig snapped to attention, forming his crystal hammer in his hands. “Someone beat us to it,” he hissed back at Wheatley, who looked like he was trying his best not to run and hide. He heard the whisper too, and the crunch of footprints against snow, backing up towards Wheatley. “Back to back,” he ordered the other boy, “get your shield up around us.” Wheatley fumbled for a moment, but within seconds the world shimmered with a faint blue tint.

One moment there were just footsteps; the next, a boy was walking up to them. Craig recognized the purple-clad “prince” from Glados’s last demonstration. “Here’s a fact for you.” The prince’s voice was unsettlingly flat and cold. “If you overcharge a Grief Seed, the Witch emerges again.”

“It’s a helpful trick,” a cheerful female voice added, though when Craig snapped his head towards her direction, he just saw a scarlet-furred wolf. “She told us about it! She’s really very generous if you don’t try to do anything stupid, like defy her.”

“…Oh. Court people! Stay calm, stay calm, we’ve done nothing wrong, we’re just on our way out because we don’t really want to fight IN a labyrinth, that’d be bloody madness, absolute bloody madness and no you’re going to attack us in a labyrinth, aren’t you.” Wheatley’s attempts at placating the two Courtiers didn’t seem to be working, and his voice cracked.

The red wolf’s mouth pulled back in a mockery of a grin. “Hello, Craig Wilson! My name’s Penelope. I’m sure we’ll get along just fine!”


	11. "I have full confidence in you.

“This is testing, then? That’s how you think of it?”

Glados stroked Kyubey in the spot between his ears as he sat on her shoulder. No one ever saw Kyubey if they weren’t meant to see him. One day she’d figure out the science behind that, too. “Of course it’s a test. It’s all testing, don’t you understand? You have a question you want answered, so you set up the experiment and let it go through. You want to see how someone reacts, you test them. That’s how you learn and change.”

“You haven’t changed in a long time, though,” Kyubey said. He closed his eyes, suggesting to Glados he at least had a sense of comfort even if he was an emotionless little creature.

“I don’t need to change. I’ve been tested. Like Alice.”

“Alice again?”

“Not that failure.” Glados stared out the glass doors at the falling snow. No one paid attention to her lingering in the lobby, apparently talking to herself. “The Alice from ‘Through The Looking Glass.’ She went through a lot of utterly nonsensical tests to become a queen. They can resent me all they want for taking this title. I earned it.” She scratched under Kyubey’s chin. There was something comforting about knowing someone who could never, ever resent her. Resentment was an emotion.

She resented Kyubey, of course. She’d loathed him for so long that it had long since turned into background static in her mind. Actively hating him was so exhausting, and she had better things to do. It was like holding a grudge against the weather. Kyubey would not change for her sake.

“If Chell fancies herself a little queen, that’s her right. Let’s see how well she does herding cats. So yes, I guess I am testing her. I’m Queen and I have a right to a worthy opponent. If she can’t protect her court of two from my knights, she’s not even worth my time.”

“What about the oracle boy?”

Glados’s hand tensed around Kyubey’s tail, and she felt the creature shudder in pain. “He’s not an opponent. It’s not the same. I told you, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fair enough. Please let go of my tail.” Glados ignored his request, but Kyubey continued regardless. “What if one of them does kill Penelope or Alex?”

“A thug who wanted an excuse for her violence and a tin soldier who needs someone to give him orders so he can turn his brain off. I’ve found plenty like them before, I’ll find more again.” Glados paused to sip from a Styrofoam cup of mint hot chocolate. It tasted like boiled sugar and plastic. “I’ve got a few applicants already. Been busy lately, have you?”

Kyubey sounded smug for something with no emotions. “I always am. Anyway, your idea has occurred to me! I wanted to wait and observe Craig Wilson a little while longer to better understand him, but if you’re really so willing to lend your assistance…”

“I told you. It’s all testing. I want to see how she handles this. For science.”

* * *

 

Something sat cold and heavy in Chell’s guts as she dodged shoppers, following her Soul Gem pulsing orange in her palm. It would be too obvious to use a portal as a shortcut, not with so many people around packed so closely together. Of course, her powers weren’t designed for this kind of situation. Even the restrooms were packed. There’d be no privacy to allow her to open a portal, even if she did know where to go.

The surface frustration of trying to navigate a quick path through the galleria in December fed the hungry little emotions brought on by her failed talk with Rita. Rita had no confidence in her ability to be a queen. Wait, she wasn’t a queen, she was just a leader. And the only reason she was a leader was because everyone wanted her to lead. They needed her to lead! There was no arrogance in taking the role when no one else would. Besides, Craig and Wheatley had wandered from her sights for an hour at the longest and already Craig was calling for help.  _They_  wanted her to lead, anyway.

Did taking control of a group of Magi make her a queen? Did forming a group to oppose the White Court mean she, herself, had a court?

No, enough. She’d made her decision and she had to face the consequences. Wheatley obviously needed her help, and Craig seemed uncomfortable with taking the lead. They needed her. She remembered how broken they looked on the train, how frightened and disgusted Wheatley looked behind the false smile when he found out about his Gem. Of course they needed a leader. If Glados wanted to call it a court, fine. If Rita wanted to start calling Chell a queen, fine. She’d be a damn better queen than that white-haired witch.

Rita would come around. Chell would prove herself, that’s all. That was all Rita needed.

She narrowly ducked running into a line full of tired children and cranky parents waiting to take a picture with Santa, scowling. Who’s stupid idea was it to go to the mall, anyway? Oh, right, Wheatley’s stupid idea. It’d been so long since she’d been out shopping, she’d forgotten how loud and crowded it could get in the Galleria.

_Holy shit_ , she realized _, I haven’t actually been to the mall in about a year. I mean, Mom doesn’t like the place, but most teenagers go places with their friends, right? Have I really gone this long without having friends again? What’s wrong with me? When did I let this magical girl thing eat my life?_

She could sense the Witch was below, in the direction of the parking garage. It would be tempting to try to open a portal right through the walls, but she couldn’t see exactly where she was aiming, and messing up would drop her down an elevator shaft or trap her inside of a concrete wall. Instead, she found herself pressing the “down” button repeatedly until a mercifully unoccupied elevator appeared. She couldn’t believe her luck, slipping in when there was only one other person inside of the elevator, until she recognized the teenage girl in the white winter coat with matching, plaited white hair.

“Oh, Chell! I’m so glad I ran into you here.” Glados clasped her gloved hands together, voice dripping with bile drowning in saccharine. Kyubey sat curled around her shoulders. Chell reached for her Soul Gem ring out of reflex, but Glados held up a hand. “Now, I know you’re violent, but would you really get into a fight in an elevator? How would that look? I’m smaller than you. All I’d have to do is press the alert button and claim you were attacking me. You know I’m good at playing the innocent.”

Chell’s hand shook as it fell back to her side. “What…what are you doing here? Are you the reason they’re in trouble?!”

“Maybe. But would it matter? They’d be in trouble sooner or later.” Glados, calm as ever, stroked Kyubey’s tail. “Again, and again, and again. You’ll have to fish everyone else out of peril. You’ll have to know their weaknesses, because they’re not just your friends, they’re your responsibilities.” There was an odd edge to that last word.

Chell’s cheeks burned red. “They’re just rookies,” she said, wondering why she felt more like she was defending herself than her partners. “I was a rookie too. You were once, don’t lie, White Queen.”

“It’s been a very long time since I was a rookie. I think I’ve been at enough to roll my eyes at beginner mistakes.” Again, Glados put an odd emphasis on that last part, staring directly at Chell with an unwavering smile. “Sure, they’ll grow out of it or they’ll die. But there will be others. They’ll look to you because you’re more inspiring and not as ‘scary,’ and they’ll hold you to high expectations. Your little group will grow, and you’ll sit on your throne at the mewling little creatures demanding your aid and convince yourself that you’re not really a queen, and you need your Court just as much as they need you.” She sipped something from a covered coffee cup. “Or, you know, you’ll die. Honestly, I’d put money on the latter if gambling was legal in this state.”

The heat had traveled down Chell’s neck. “I really do love hearing you tell me what I’m like, Glados. I’m not a goddamn queen. I’m just a leader.”

“Of course! And you’ll do a fantastic job leading, I’m sure, mousey weirdo like you. I have full confidence in you, just like Caroline did.” As Glados laughed, Chell grabbed her own arm to still it. Punching Glados might feel good, but the last thing Chell’s mother needed was to bail her daughter out of jail. “Or you know, you could rejoin the Court. If it gets too tough. I’m just saying. Oh, here’s our floor…”

On cue, the door chimed and opened up to the lower level of the parking garage. Chell dashed out of the elevator and turned around to face Glados, but she had already transformed herself into black smoke and was flowing out of sight, and Kyubey had melted into the shadows. She was left alone with her pulsing Soul Gem flaring as she stared ahead to a Labyrinth gate marked by a bleeding apple.

* * *

 

“Okay, Wheatley, hold up the barrier, just hold it up. Don’t move, just hold. Up. The Barrier.” Craig took a deep breath, trying to ignore the dissonance between Penelope’s very human voice and the sight of a bright red wolf clawing and jumping at an ever-weakening blue barrier. “I think I got in contact with Chell. We just need to hold out and she’ll get us out of here.”

“But-but the Grief Seed, Mate, I’m honestly a bit low after that Alice incident…” Craig could hear the terrified tremble in Wheatley’s voice. “And that smart-looking fellow in the purple is giving me quite the stink-eye and-and I swear he just  _vanished_  like a bloody ghost and I don’t know if I want to retreat or fight or WHAT…”

As Wheatley’s resolve crumbled, his barrier did the same, wavering until it popped like a bubble. Reacting quickly despite his frustration with Wheatley, Craig moved to throw his ally down to the snowy ground of the Labyrinth as Penelope pounced, feeling teeth sink into his arm.

“Oh my god, you’re BITING me.” Disgust overtook pain and the boy swung his ruby hammer, throwing a bit of magic into it. The force was enough to knock the wolf into a tree, temporarily reverting Penelope to her human form. Standing back up, Craig bit his lip in guilt when he realized he would have to fight an actual human, shape shifting magic or none, but Penelope seemed to have no such qualms. She sprung back to her feet in turn, a feral grin on her face. 

“Okay, new plan.” Craig decided now was as good a time as any to show off his new technique, using his gravity magic to float a few feet into the air. Flight was enjoyable, and might even be exhilarating if he ever got a chance to do it when he wasn’t being threatened with death. “Let’s just make a retreat and try to meet up with Chell. It might be cowardly to try to outnumber them, but they’re probably more experienced. In the meantime, I’ll grab you, fly out, and-Wheatley? Wheatley?”

There were a mess of footprints in the snow behind him, no purple “prince,” and no Wheatley.

“…Oh.” Surely they’d just been separated by the fight. Surely Wheatley was alive and safe somewhere, despite the drops of blood in the tracks. It was absolutely impossible to consider that Wheatley might have taken off and abandoned Craig, so like anything else Craig couldn’t accept without obvious and undeniable proof, he rejected it.

Penelope was still there, though, transforming into a bird to divebomb him. She hit him right in the eye, through the hole in his mask, and he cried out in pain and shock as he crashed back on the snow. “It’s fine, it’s fine,” he reminded himself through searing pain, “I can heal this, I can heal it after the fight…”

“Sure you can!” Penelope’s voice echoed as the bird flew around him in a taunting circle, watching him glare at her from one eye. “You can heal almost anything. We’re the strongest there is! I don’t know why so many of you cry about it, this is the best.”

“I’m really not as enthusiastic about it,” Craig snapped back, shutting his wounded eye and using enough magic to at least block the pain. “I mean, I suppose if you like violence, which you seem to do. Can’t this at least wait until we’ve defeated the Witch? You’re just as at risk here, aren’t you?”

“Oh, but I’ve already been through this Labyrinth! I know exactly what to expect. Speaking of.”

The red bird cooed and shot straight up into the air out of sight. Craig couldn’t help but watch it fly off until he felt something reaching for his arm.

“Oh, the Familiars…”

The trees had arms and eyes, and their mouths opened in great toothy maws as they stretched themselves and grabbed at Craig. As he grabbed and pulled away the gnarled wood arms with his own gloved hands, he looked back up to see a much larger bird descending on him, the same color of blood red. Penelope had transformed into a vulture.

Her eyes glinted and reflected the glowing white snow. “Give up and leave my lovely Queen alone, or I’ll use you to fuel my gem. We’re all predators here, after all.” She swiped down to dig her claws into his shoulder and flew back off again, disappearing against the fake night sky.

* * *

 

_I didn’t run away. I’m not running away. Craig’s my friend, or something close. He obviously trusts me because he confided in me, and no one ever does, no one but him and maybe sometimes Chell trusts me with secrets at all. Certainly Uncle never does, and we’re blood! So I’m not running away, because I wouldn’t. I’m just catching my breath. Just waiting to figure out how to fight someone I can’t see._

Wheatley stumbled and staggered through the endless forest, ducking and shouting in panic as the trees reached for him and the apples tried to bite him. “Bloody Familiars,” he muttered, before another forceful strike hit him from the side. “And YOU! Utterly sick of you, I am! Can’t even properly hurt me, can you? This doesn’t hurt at all!” He laughed out of false courage, hoping to goad Alex into making himself visible again.

He wasn’t lying. Alex’s strikes didn’t hurt much at all, really. Wheatley assumed the bleeding was just surface scratches, and he’d been put through worse even during his short run as a Puer Magi. It was the paranoia that was getting to him. Wheatley was slow, and Alex was incredibly fast, almost as speedy as Rita. What made it worse was his invisibility magic. He’d find himself taking blows from any angle, spin around, only to feel an eerily painless blade against his cheek or a jolt in his shoulder.

His barriers weren’t much help, as he’d just hear clinks against a solid one until it shattered, and he couldn’t move fast enough to strike Alex with a projectile barrier. He couldn’t even hide. 

“Crumbs, I’m supposed to be good at defending myself, at least.” He leaned against a tree, only to hear it wriggle and grab at him. In frustration, he blasted it into pieces with a barrier wall. “BUGGER OFF! Bloody madmen they are, getting us into a fight in a Labyrinth, madmen…”

He thought he heard a whisper.

“What? What was that? Was that the Witch? Oh bloody hell, do I have the devil’s own luck or what? I would run into the Witch here while still dealing with the Invisible Man, wouldn’t I?”

“I said,” Alex whispered, “I know why they keep you around now.”

“…Is that you? Is it? Come out here, you coward!” Frustration temporarily fed a boost of bravado, and Wheatley stood back up, ignoring the weird wet feeling around his neck and shoulders. It was probably the snow. “Come on! I know why they keep me around, anyway. I’m a good friend! I am, you know. Got a big heart right here.” He smacked his chest. “And I’ve got barriers! Useful things, you know, keep me alive, keep…others alive…”

He felt a forceful blow to the chest knock him to his feet, and Alex reappeared, pointing his rapier at Wheatley’s neck. His dark brown eyes were narrowed as he stared Wheatley down. “You call me a coward, but you ran away.”

“I didn’t run away! I DIDN’T run away! I’m not a coward!” He backed up, forming his hovering crystal and charging up a laser to fire at Alex at point-blank range. “Ha! Now we’ve got ourselves a proper face-off, eh?”

Alex looked mildly taken aback, and Wheatley grinned with grim satisfaction, though the effect was ruined somewhat by the fact that Wheatley was still on his back in the snow staring down the point of a violet-handled sword. He half-expected Alex to vanish again, but the other boy held his ground. It was the first time he’d gotten a good look at the Magi, and something about him was very familiar.

“I was saying, I get why they keep you around. You don’t seem to be very brave or smart, but heroes need someone to save, after all.”

“…Um. What?” Wheatley was struggling to follow, perhaps due to the overwhelming stress of his current situation. He was starting to prefer the part where Alex played stab-and-vanish.

“The class president is smarter than you. He’s more mature than you. The court traitor is more courageous and stronger. She protects you. You give them a reason to keep fighting. You inspire them with your weakness and vulnerability.” Alex sounded cold and disinterested in his rant, the sword unmoving.

Yes, Wheatley definitely preferred the stabbing.

“I…I do not. It’s more than that. I’m new, that’s all! I mean, so is Craig, but you can’t compare me to Craig, he’s a bloody genius, AP classes and everything. I mean, I’m not dead! Not dead yet when everything including the guy who gave me the powers apparently wants me dead, that’s something, right?”

“Because of your leader, the traitor girl.”  As Alex spoke of her without using her name, Wheatley recalled waking up in Chell’s little pocket dimension as she helped him heal stab wounds.

“Because of Craig Wilson,” Alex continued, bringing to mind Craig catching Wheatley when the latter had exhausted himself in Alice’s Labyrinth.

“It’s just that…people help each other, that’s all! That’s all it is!” Why was he letting Alex get to him like this? Why wasn’t he more afraid of being stabbed through the throat? Sure he’d survive it, but like everything else he’d been through lately, it wouldn’t feel pleasant. “I’ve helped too! I’m sure. You see the barrier I had up before? Sure it saved our arses a few times. They can’t do that! I can!”

Alex’s cape fluttered behind him in the chill wind of the forest. “Oh no, I understand completely. You do something they can’t do and you give them something they need. It’s admirable.” There was an eerie lack of inflection in his voice. “I had a partner like that. I think of him all the time.”

A prickly, uneasy feeling crawled up Wheatley’s spine with Alex’s very word. He could sense his Soul Gem darkening without even looking at it. As much as he tried to remind himself that Alex was an enemy who had everything to gain from psyching him out and messing with his head, he couldn’t find arguments to counter what the other boy was saying. He was rather weak, wasn’t he? He had technically run away, hadn’t he? He’d convinced himself that if he remained positive no matter what happened, and smiled for them when they couldn’t smile, they’d have a reason to keep him around. Maybe they’d even want him around instead of just tolerating him out of obligation.

That  _was_  why they kept him around, right? The positivity? Surely it wasn’t because Chell saw him as some kind of noble obligation. Surely Craig didn’t think of him as that much of a charity case.

Even thinking about the idea made him angry, and that anger burned hotter than his mortal fear. He formed three more crystal orbs in midair above him, and this time didn’t hesitate to fire three, deep blue jets of liquid crystal at his target. Ordinarily he couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn with them, but Alex was at point-blank range, and it was easy to nail him right in the face.

“HA!” Wheatley climbed to his feet, and only then did it register in his mind that Alex had made an entirely human scream when Wheatley shot him. Of course, he wasn’t fighting a Witch. Alex was a human. His triumph twisted into guilt and horror as he stared at the form of the other boy, collapsed in the snow with holes torn into his clothing and blood trickling from a wound in the chest.

“Wait, I mean-I mean, I didn’t mean to do it! You made the first move! You had me countered and you taunted me, and really it’s your fault, I just defended myself. It’s what I do! I defend myself! You’re the one who made me feel miserable…” A combination of horror and relief washed over Wheatley as Alex’s body immediately started to heal itself with flashes of purple light. “Oh, good! Good, you’re going to survive this one. So I’ve proved it, right? Proved I’m not just a little weakling you can push around? Right?”

Alex’s eyes fluttered open, he took one look at Wheatley, and cloaked himself in invisibility again before staggering off.

“Good! Ha, shows you, underestimating me.” Wheatley clung desperately to the pride that came with chasing off Alex, because it felt a lot better than his revulsion with himself at having intentionally hurt one of his peers, or the million unpleasant feelings left over from Alex’s awful speech of lies. A sudden stinging cold and gust of wind answered him, suggesting it wasn’t Wheatley that Alex was running from at all.

He turned around slowly to view a great white cloak with one red eye peering from beneath a void, the small  but powerful form of the Huntress Witch waiting for him.

“Ohhh. Oh, there you are…bloody appropriate, isn’t it? Like an old cartoon, you were just waiting for the right moment, I swear.” Wheatley did his best not to look into that awful red eye, backing up and forming a barrier around himself as he took a look at his Soul Gem. It was dark, murky even, and he wasn’t sure how well he’d do in a solo battle with a Witch. Where was Craig? Where the devil was Chell?

Alex’s taunts resurfaced again, and he took a deep breath. “Fine! Fine, I can do this. Bring it on! You’re not so big, after all. Seen some bloody huge ones, you’re itty bitty in comparison. Come on, then!” He pulled his crystal close to him, preparing to fire.

Instead, a blue hole opened in the sky above the Witch and a beam struck it straight from above. Another portal shimmered and deposited Chell, looking a bit weary but none-too-worse for the wear. She was dragging Craig, who looked a bit more battered and was rubbing his left eye as if it itched.

“Oh thank GOD you’re here,” Wheatley blurted, though some part of him hated himself for it. “It is the worst thing, absolutely the worst, these tossers attacked us in the middle of a bloody Labyrinth and then left us to deal with the Witch! Right cowards they are, you know. I mean, um, Craig knows.” Guilt swelled in him when he remembered Craig, until he reminded himself that it wasn’t running away if he didn’t call it that.  “Come on, let’s take of her, shall we? I am really, really tired of…what, what are you staring at?”

Chell was gawking at Wheatley, though she tore herself away to focus on the Huntress Witch. “Nothing. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Fine, oh, fine! Really. Tired of this fight, stop Witch now please.” In exasperation, he ran his hand over the back of his neck, staring himself as he drew it away.

It was soaked with blood. Had Alex really hit him that hard? He hadn't felt much of anything.

* * *

 

The Witch wasn’t particularly strong. Against three Magi, even if two of them were tired and wounded, it didn’t stand a chance. The Labyrinth dissolved with no sign of Alex or Penelope, and Chell could only assume they’d left on their own. Glados’s Magi rarely fell so easily to Witches.

At least they had the Grief Seed. She picked it up herself, but knew she wasn’t going to need it as much as the two boys were. She looked between Craig, who had fixed his eye and wounds but looked wilted and weary, and Wheatley, who wore red gashes over his arms, neck and chest, and was only now thinking to heal them.

“…There’s enough to share, right?” She held it out to the others, and both hesitated.

“You look like you need it more,” Craig stated. “How did you not notice you were taking that kind of damage?”

“It just didn’t hurt that much,” Wheatley mumbled, staring down at himself. “No, you first. I mean, you don’t need to look after me or anything.” Was that a hint of defensive anger she caught in his voice? What on Earth was that about?

“…Okay, fine.” Craig purified his Gem before letting Wheatley use up the rest, their transformations reverting a moment after. “We did fine,” he added to Chell. “We stuck together as best we could. Wheatley did his best, too.” The class president looked over at Wheatley, who turned away for some reason, his expression changing to that of a reprimanded puppy. “It’s eerie that the two Courtiers didn’t fight us for the Witch, though. Even if this was an assassination attempt, I’d think they’d want to claim as many Grief Seeds as possible. But that shapeshifter girl flew off…”

Her little three-person rebellion, or court, or whatever it was she led was already starting to fracture the moment she turned her back. Maybe they really did need her.

“It’s alright, guys. Really. Don’t worry. I think I can get through to Rita.” It was only partially a lie. “We’re stronger than her, okay? I’m here now.”

Perhaps Rita was right, in a way. Maybe they did need a queen.

* * *

 

“I’M HOME.” Rita slammed the door of the hotel room closed behind her, and Glados scowled at the rudeness of the gesture. The queen sat up and closed her laptop as Rita collapsed on one of the cheap little padded chairs. “Damn, this place smells like smoke.”

“I figured you would have liked a hotel room that allowed smoking. I appreciate your gratitude, Ms. Park.”

“I mean old smoke. Nasty old cigar smoke, bleah.” Rita cracked open the soda can she’d brought in and took a long chug.

“So how did your chit-chat with Chell go?”

Rita’s answer was a long belch. “Don’t wanna talk about it. Do I have to? Is this one of those ‘I’m askin’ you but I’m really commandin’ you to tell me’ things?”

Glados chuckled. She was in an unusually positive mood, and thus felt mildly forgiving. “No. I told you she’d just act sanctimonious like that. I used to be that kind of brat too, once upon a time. It’s a little nostalgic, really. Little me with my first Court, trying to figure out how to get people who admired me to do as I said. That’s what she wants, you know. She wants you to fall under her spell. You’re stronger than that, though, right?”

“I’m yer knight and all that.” Rita’s tone lacked enthusiasm, and she was hiding her eyes under her cap. “You saved me. Of course I’m loyal. Been over this, Queenie.”

Glados snorted. “I’ll just assume that means you’re not in the mood to discuss it further. That’s fine. I have no reason to doubt your loyalty, Rita.”

“Oh, uh.” Glados heard Rita slosh around the already half-empty soda can before continuing. “Weird thing, I thought I picked up on a Witch manifesting on my way out. Followed yer orders and came straight back here, but I figured you would have told me if you were predicting a new Witch there around that time. I mean, I’m fine, I imagine you’re fine, but still.”

“A junior court member brought me two Grief Seeds this morning. I’m fine. As for the Witch, statistical irregularities do occur. What reason would I have not to tell you of a potential Witch if I knew one might manifest?”

“…Right, yeah. Probably random. Holiday blues and all that crap.” Rita returned her attention to her soda, just as Glados knew she would.

She was always running tests. Sometimes you had to reinforce behaviors and explore limits. Sometimes a queen had to test loyalty.


	12. "What lies you tell"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talky chapter, yaay.

The moment after Kyubey first explained Craig’s powers to him, he started to notice something about the world around him. It was full of liars.

His parents smiled and lied to him about how business had gone that day, even though he knew how quiet the store seemed. Art supplies weren’t always in high demand, after all, and Mrs. Wilson was still struggling to sell one of her paintings. That didn’t surprise him. From the moment he figured out that Santa Claus didn’t exist, Craig came to understand that adults lied to children so children would be happier than adults. It didn’t stop guilt from squirming like a serpent inside of him every time his gem flickered silently around them.

Craig had always planned to graduate with honors, enter law school, and make enough money to ensure his parents would never have to work again and could concern themselves with their art. If they knew he’d effectively signed his life away, even if it was for Kevin’s sake, they’d be heartbroken. So he didn’t say anything about it, which was not so different from lying outright.

Teachers lied. Members of the Student Council lied in front of the entire group, and Craig pursed his lips and said nothing. Students lied over silly things. ‘Oh, I love that band!’ ‘Sorry, I had a computer error and couldn’t complete the assignment, can I have an extension?’ ‘It doesn’t matter to me who you spend time with.’ The fact that he’d been unable to pick up on those harmless fibs bothered him. Didn’t he pride himself on being observant? How often had people casually lied to him without his realizing? Was nobody truly honest?

The only time the gem didn’t flare up was when he lied. And why would it? He didn’t need magic to detect his own dishonesty. Guilt did a fine job with that.

When Raquel, a member of Student Council with an enthusiastic but unfortunate habit of getting into off-topic conversations in the middle of meetings, asked if anyone had heard the rumors of disappearing classmates and ghosts near the riverfront, Craig pretended not to know anything about it. When his father asked him how his Sunday had gone, he mustered up his best calm, neutral expression and insisted he was just tired from being caught in the poor weather. His parents had to know that wasn’t true, but they fixed him up butternut squash soup nonetheless and didn’t bring it up again. Craig wasn’t sure if becoming a Magi had turned him into a casual liar, or if he’d always been one somehow.

When Chell asked him how the fight had gone, Craig knew he should have told the truth. Their partner, one of the few people Craig had actually started to regard as a real friend as opposed to another classmate, had abandoned him in the middle of a fight. It was more likely an act of panic than the deliberate choice of a dirty coward, but even then, it didn’t bode well for difficult fights to come. If Wheatley was their defense expert, he needed to keep a calm head under pressure, and they needed to depend on him. If he’d told the truth, it might have hurt some feelings, but it also might have put Wheatley on a training track to stop such things from happening again.

And yet.

And yet, some part of him told himself, Chell’s under enough pressure. You don’t even know what her home life is like. She worries enough about her teammates, and she doesn’t need extra stress over one mistake. And yet, the voice continued, Wheatley was dependable enough in their first fight, if overconfident. Perhaps he just quailed at the idea of fighting people instead of Witches. He looks like he’s giving himself a hard enough time about it, anyway, from the way he keeps avoiding everyone. And yet, the last thing this new partnership needs is a rift from the start. He could ignore his own hurt feelings for the sake of solidarity. Wasn’t that what a proper class president ought to do? Surely it had to be more important than supporting a petition against the installation of a soda machine near the gymnasium.

“It went fine,” he told Chell, in his perfect dispassionate voice of Truth. 

The world was full of facts and lies, truth-tellers and liars, and Craig wasn’t sure which one he was anymore.

* * *

Even the smells of home were novel. Kevin had grown so used to the sterile chemical scents of his hospital room, he’d forgotten what it was like to sit at the table immersed in the scent of vegetable lasagna. Weak as his appetite still was, it was enough for Kevin that he was with his family at the kitchen table eating his father’s “famous” lasagna, rather than poking at something from a tray.

“No carrots this time?”

“The night my little boy comes home,” Mrs. Wilson said, “is the night he gets away with not eating carrots. Not next time, though! This is a one-time offer, got it?” She chuckled, and so did Kevin. He’d managed to wheedle his parents into allowing coffee cake for dessert, too, another ‘one-time offer.’ “You wanna go to space, you’re gonna need to eat all your vegetables. Not just the tasty ones.”

Kevin gulped down a mouthful of zucchini and pasta. “What about yams?”

“Baked? Sure. What your father does, drowning ‘em in marshmallows and caramel sauce? Only at Christmas.” Veronica Wilson gave her husband a look, and Harlan responded with a guilty little shrug. Kevin already knew his father had a gift for fixing all kinds of sweet, goopy concoctions and finding a way to call them healthy. Once he’d snuck in some of the sweet marshmallow yams in a Tupperware container into Kevin’s hospital room, and Kevin had enjoyed the few sweet bites his appetite had allowed him.   
And there was Craig, picking at his food. Brothers noticed these things. So did parents, of course.

“Craig, you feeling alright?” Veronica walked over and put a hand on Craig’s forehead, which he brushed away. “Okay, okay, I just thought I’d check. Flu season and all. Now don’t tell me you’re not hungry for lasagna. …Craig?”

Craig looked as if he’d been sleeping with his eyes open, but he snapped to attention after a moment. “Huh? What? Oh, sorry. Just, um, just thinking about that research paper I have due next week.”

Veronica raised an eyebrow. “Well, if it’s over school I can’t really give you too much trouble, but at least try to pay attention to the here and now. Your brother’s back! I swear, your mind’s been somewhere else lately. Are you getting enough sleep?”

Craig shook his head, and then, perhaps realizing he was answering ‘no’ when he meant ‘yes,’ nodded. “No, I’m fine, I’m fine. Sorry.” He smiled at Kevin, which was how Kevin knew something was up with his big brother. Something had changed in the time he’d spent away in the hospital. Craig, as a rule, did not smile.

Well, he smiled for photographs and grandparents, and when it was appropriate to smile, but it was clearly a deliberate act. One could tell Craig was happy or excited when he chattered and used a lot of hand gestures, or when there was a hint to his voice, but as long as Kevin could remember his big brother, Craig was reserved as his parents were warm and expressive. He was rarely so distracted, though.

Kevin tugged on Craig’s sleeve and wrinkled his forehead. When Craig took a few too many seconds to look over at him, however, Kevin realized he’d forgotten what he was going to say and just looked away. Wasn’t Craig happy that he was back? What could be taking up all of his attention? As far as Kevin knew, schoolwork was easy for him. He wasn’t the one with months’ worth of catch up work to look forward to after the holidays. 

Instead, Kevin decided to try making small talk. Surely then Craig would pay attention. “What’s your project on?”

“…Hmm?”

“Your research paper, dummy. Is it space? I mean, you know, astronomy? Cuz if it is, I can help out! Uncle Max got me a book with lots of photos of Mars. Did you know there’s a big volcano on Mars? If it’s about space, you should do it on Mars. Or Venus. Venus has a poisonous atmosphere! Isn’t that neat?”

Craig stared at him blinking like an owl, and Kevin realized he’d let his enthusiasm get away with him again. Not everyone shared his love affair with astronomy, and while the nurses had been patient listening to him talk about how he was going to be the first astronaut on Mars, he could tell they were probably just humoring him. They had no idea how serious he was. As for Craig, he seemed to care more about boring subjects like history.

“Oh, uh, no,” Craig answered in a hesitant voice, after swallowing a mouthful of zucchini. “It’s about the Valley Street Quake. You know, the one where all the fires broke out and burnt down the old City Hall. You probably learned about that during the City Hall field trip, right?”

Kevin frowned. “No, I couldn’t make the field trip, remember?” It was a sore point for him that he’d first started feeling ill before the first field trip of the year. “But I know about the earthquake.” There it was again, history! History was always so sad, unless one focused on the neat things like early airplanes and steam engines. The future sounded much more exciting. Everyone would be living in space, and there’d be intelligent robots. 

Well, it made sense for stern Craig to want to study sad things, Kevin supposed. He didn’t want to get into an argument with his big brother his first night home, so instead he turned back to his parents and started to talk to them about Olympus Mons. He thought it was very interesting, anyway. 

It wasn’t in his nature to let the matter drop, however. Something was up with Craig, and Kevin was going to find it out.

* * *

 

Wheatley had always thought that some problems would stop being problems the longer they were ignored. For instance, the less time he spent thinking about his parents, the more he could convince himself he wasn’t lonely. That was easy enough. Likewise, the more he refused to entertain the thought that feelings towards Chell could possibly be a result of her admiration-inspiring magic, the longer he could put off figuring out just what those feelings were in the first place and that was really for the best.   
After all, if he had Contracted out of romantic feelings, at least he could say he was going to die for love. Didn’t people die for love all the time in plays? The audience adored them for it. But if he only had a crush because of a spell, it meant he Contracted for nothing, and if his only use to Chell was as an object of pity to be protected, that would be pathetic! So best not to think about it at all.

Lately, however, that technique wasn’t working out so well. For instance, on the way back from the mall he’d been unable to think about school or Christmas or anything else that wasn’t how much Craig must hate him now for being useless. If Chell found out he’d run away in battle she’d hate him too. Making an effort not to think those thoughts helped not a bit. He sent a text message to ask Craig if he was alright, followed by another apologizing and a few others merely chatting about this and that thing and wasn’t that Witch something and what’s with that redhead and the purple fellow, anyway? He didn’t get any answers, but at least he’d made an effort to apologize.

“Anyway,” he told the walls as he sat alone in his room, “I knew I wasn’t much good in battle anyway. I mean, defensive magic is nice. But what are you going to do with it when it’s just you? I barely made it out alive against that bloody invisible guy. He was cheating! Invisibility magic is cheating. I’d have more respect for him if he was just stealthy like a-like a ninja. But I mean I can’t just be an object of pity, yeah? How pathetic would that be? I trade my life without being told that’s what I’m trading to be tied to someone who probably doesn’t like me that way and I don’t even get to be useful to…”

The thought answered itself. ‘I want to be important to her.’ Of course, heroes need a cause. He was important to her because he was weaker, magically and emotionally even if he had size and bulk on her, and he gave her a reason to fight on and become stronger. Of course he was pitiable, that was how his wish panned out. “Oh, but that can’t be right! That can’t be. Surely I’d be a partner or something at least, on equal footing. I can’t constantly be running to catch up with them.”

“Well, wishes don’t always play out the way you’d like. You tied your destiny to hers. You have nothing to complain about.”

Wheatley opened one eye. “I really don’t want to talk to you right now, if it’s all the same, mate.”

Kyubey ignored Wheatley’s wishes, curling up on the pillows. “All the same, it’s important you learn this lesson the hard way. You have to live with the consequences of your wish. Or you could become a Witch and it wouldn’t be your problem anymore.”

He buried his face in his knees. “Sod off.” It was rare for him to use such language, and he immediately felt guilty about it as if an authority figure could overhear him instead of a fluffy soul-stealer. “I don’t want to talk to you. Don’t you think if I wanted to talk to you, I’d ask for you by name? Just ‘oh, excuse me, I’d really like to speak to the creature who tricked me into this whole mess!’ You said I can’t get out of my contract, so what do I possibly have to say to you? You get a thrill off taunting your victims or something?”

Kyubey just blinked. “Surely this is better than talking to unfeeling walls at least? I would think you’d tell your partners about your concern, but humans are hard to explain. What you keep secret and what you reveal to others, and what lies you tell, too. I don’t understand it at all.” When he shook his head, his big ears flopped. “I take it you have no intention of becoming a Witch, though if that was the case, perhaps you shouldn’t have let Craig use the Grief Seed from earlier first. It seems you need more right now.”   
It was true, Wheatley’s Grief Seed hadn’t been looking good since the fight in the mall, purification notwithstanding. It wasn’t dangerously dark, but there were swirls of navy among the pale blue that just wouldn’t go away. If he told Chell or Craig about it, that would just reinforce his role as a helpless thing there to make them feel better about themselves. It might make them worry and darken their Gems, too. He could hunt a Witch on his own if it got bad enough. 

“S’only because I’m in a bad mood, that’s all. If I cheer up, it’ll clear up, right? It’s got to. I mean, grief passes! It goes away after a while. You stop thinking about bad things and they go away for a-for a while.”

Kyubey said nothing to that. 

Wheatley turned his nose up. “I won’t let you taunt me into becoming a Witch or something like that. You think I’m the weak link too, don’t you?! The White Court, my friends, even you, I’ll prove all of you wrong! I’ll never become a Witch. I’ll-I’ll break it first!” 

He covered his mouth the moment he blurted that out. He couldn’t really do it, could he? Break his own Gem if it got dark enough? He knew he couldn’t do that. Why would he even consider it? He just wouldn’t become a Witch. He wouldn't let it get to that point.

Even Kyubey seemed to be looking at him in a way that interrogated him, the creature’s expressionless eyes somehow questioning whether he could live up to his own words. “I see now why you use shields and defensive magic.”  
“What’s that mean?”

“I’ll tell you another time. You’re about to get a phone call.” 

Wheatley wrinkled his forehead. “What in the—oh, crumbs!” Indeed, that was his cell phone ringing somewhere in his room. He waved Kyubey away to search under his sheets, on his dresser, and near his shoes before he found his phone where it had somehow made its way under his bed. He answered it just before his voice mail would have kicked in, adrenaline still in his voice. “Hello?!”

“…Hey, kid, why so stressed?”

He blinked, taking a deep breath. “Oh, Uncle!” Cave almost never called him on the phone. They either had awkward face-to-face conversations or the man left notes. Usually he was too busy. “Nothing, uh, nothing, I was just…out running.”

“In the snow?”

“Oh, sure! Sure, very refreshing that way. We did it in England all the time.” Running in the snow? What was he going on about? And why was he making up silly lies about England?

“Huh, well, whatever. Listen, kid, had a deal go my way. Real good stuff. I think it’s all comin’ together! I’m gonna build the best damn research lab the world’s ever seen.”

Ah, right, the research lab. Cave was a businessman determined to build a business through hell or high water, and apparently he thought robotics and breakthrough technology were the way to go. Wheatley had to admit he was completely indifferent to Cave’s dream company, but if things were going well for him that was certainly a reason to cheer. Besides, it might mean they’d finally have some money. “Oh, good! That’s tremendous! Congratulations!”

“Haha, thought you’d be happy. Listen, I wanna celebrate. You doing anything tomorrow?"

“…Uh, well, school.” Wheatley also had to meet with the other Court members for practice fighting, but he conveniently left that part out. That would probably only take a few hours.

“Oh, right, right, school night. Yeah. Okay, tell you what. Dinner. We’re going out to dinner tomorrow, you ‘n me.”

Wheatley stared at the phone. He rarely ate meals with Cave at all, and they almost never went out. On his last birthday, Cave had given him money to go with some friends, and Wheatley had been too grateful and embarrassed to admit he had none to go with. “You mean it?”

“Yeah, ‘course I do! Cave Johnson says what he means, kid. You like Chinese? Yeah, we’ll go to that place with the dumplings. You know the place.” Wheatley didn’t, but he didn’t interrupt. “Things are gonna change around here, kid. Get ready.”

Cave hung up at that point, never one for goodbyes even over the phone apparently. Wheatley kept staring at the phone, and then a grin spread across his face as he pointed at Kyubey. “See? You see that, mate? Things are going my way! They’re going to change and I’m sure he means for the better, or else he wouldn’t be so perky. How are you going to turn me into a Witch with your bloody scheme now, eh? I’ll just focus on happy things like being able to spend time with my family for once and having friends. And those fried scallion pancake things they probably have at that dumpling house! See? Family, food, money, all good things.”

Kyubey said nothing. He flicked his tail and then vanished out the window, despite said window being closed. 

“Pff. See? Smug little prat knows when he’s beaten. Obviously the secret is keeping happy, so I’ll just keep Chell and Craig happy without being…the thing that one kid said I was. That ought to do it, eh?” He didn’t even bother to look at his Gem, assuring himself that it had to be shining bright and clear as a blue star.

He didn’t see the corruption that was still there, floating and swirling in the blue gem like the shadows of fish.

* * *

 

Craig knew he’d get a mouthful later for being a hermit in his room, spending time on his computer, especially if his mother knew he was splitting his attention between his research paper and something else. He was already mad at himself for not having a paper ready three days before it was due. He was falling behind.

His Google searches were starting to find hits, though. His suspicions, that there had to be Magi outside of the city, were proving correct. Once in a while he’d come across message boards where individuals were clearly talking about being Puella or Puer Magi. Digging through message board history revealed that most posters didn’t stick around for very long. They never left message of departure, they just stopped posting after a while. Craig could figure out why.

There were tips about how to fight Witches here and there. Some just gossiped about unrelated topics. Others complained about costume colors, of all things. There was one common thread that came up from time to time.

_Just stay away from Port Alto._   
_If you’re the kind who travels between cities looking for territory, stay out of Port Alto! You don’t want to mess with those crazies._   
_If you Contracted in Port Alto, I feel sorry for you. Maybe run away? Stay away from Addison, though, that’s my territory._   
_Port Alto Court Court weirdos stay away! Don't want your creepy mob cult thing._

What was it about Port Alto? Sure, the city’s crime rate wasn’t ideal, but Craig had grown up here and had quite an attachment to the seaside metropolis. Was it just the Court? He did notice that “Queens” and “Courts” were almost never mentioned on the message boards, suggesting the White Court was Glados’s own fabrication instead of a common practice. Maybe they were all afraid of her? But she was just a bully who had a lot of bullies serving her. Was she really so much more powerful than an average Puella Magi, and if so, why?

Even more puzzling were the posts by one poster with the handle “Lab Rat.” These were endless screeds about the nature of magic and prophecy that went on with inconsistent grammar. They jumped back and forth between topics and seemed to make no sense. He (or she) would mention Crowley and sorcery, multiverse theory, auras and goddess myths all in the same post with little connecting any of them. Craig would have dismissed him as some mistaken New Ager if not for the fact that no one ever deleted or flagged his posts. Indeed, no one ever replied to them. They were just there.

It made his head hurt, so he went back to looking at his research paper. That took his mind off his guilt, too. He knew he was being standoffish to Kevin, but it was hard to look him in the eye knowing the only reason why Kevin made it home was because Craig wouldn’t someday. It wasn’t Kevin’s fault. Craig told himself he was happy if Kevin was, because he wanted to be a good brother and he loved Kevin. The odd jealousy that started to bubble around Kevin was toxic and not something Craig knew how to deal with. So he’d fallen into old habits and just distanced himself a bit. It’d go away and he’d warm up again, certainly in time for Christmas.

Besides, better Kevin think his big brother was acting weird again than know the truth.

The quake was quite an oddity. Despite the fact that there was a fault line situated right underneath Port Alto, there had only been one earthquake big enough to be felt, and it was a doozy. It struck in 1933, upheaving streets, tilting buildings and starting fires all around the city. The real miracle was how few deaths there were when one considered the magnitude of the disaster. Eyewitness reports mentioned unexplained lights that were usually dismissed as fires or gas explosions. It had struck at a terrible time of mass unemployment. Yet for all the devastation, there had been remarkably little loss of life.

Craig chewed his pencil eraser. “Maybe Kevin was right about history being depressing,” he mumbled. 

_Strange lights…_

No, that was ridiculous. How could he even imagine such a prospect? A strange idea was formulating in Craig’s mind and he chose to ignore it because it was unbelievable. Earthquakes were caused by fault movements. There was a fault under Port Alto, one of numerous small faults on the East Coast. This had a scientific explanation.

_Almost no lost lives…_

And that was just a fortunate coincidence combined with efficient rescue teams. Craig was letting his mind go into irrational places. There were facts and lies and the facts were right there in front of him. There was no point in formulating embarrassing conspiracy theories.

“Kyubey?”

As he expected, Kyubey appeared when called, sitting next to the computer. “It’s nice for someone to want to talk with me for once. What’s wrong, Craig?”

“Witches can’t cause earthquakes, right?”

“Sometimes.” Kyubey’s answer was as flat as anything else he ever said.

Drat. “I thought they just try to lure people to their deaths or force them into suicide?”

Kyubey closed his eyes and mimicked a sigh. “Once in a while, a powerful Witch manifests without need for a Labyrinth. Labyrinths are just hiding spaces for Witches, after all. It’s very rare but it does happen. The devastation caused by such a Witch will be perceived by most as a storm, earthquake or other disaster.”

The hairs on the back of Craig’s neck stood on end. Kyubey speaking so casually of disaster didn’t help. “How will we know if one’s on the way?”

“You won’t, until it appears. But a Magi would be able to see the Witch at least.”

“…Kyubey.” He looked the creature in its terrible red eyes. “When you warned me about someone’s wish dooming the city, did you mean it’ll cause one of those Witches?” What else could it be? Witches were terrible, but they were localized problems. The Magi system was equally terrible but stable. The greater city would go on no matter what happened to Craig and his friends.

“It could lead to that. In fact, as things are now there is a 99 percent chance you’ll see at least one cataclysmic Witch in your lifetime.”

He couldn’t take Kyubey’s eerie cheerfulness anymore. “Why didn’t you warn us of that in the first place? Tell me how to stop it! You don’t want the city wrecked, do you?”

“It doesn’t matter to me what happens to this city. There are still plenty of humans elsewhere, and besides, humans rebuild cities even if they’ve been completely devastated. You’ll repopulate enough to replace yourselves in time. But it would be more convenient for me if the city stayed as it was.” 

Craig sighed. “Liar, you don’t care. Well, I’ll just find a way to stop it before it manifests. These Witches are people. Someone’s going to turn into a Witch sooner or later, and we just have to stop it from happening.” What did that mean? Figuring out who it was and sustaining them perpetually with Grief Seeds that might go to keeping other Magi alive? Something more grisly that Craig didn’t want to imagine?

“It’d be interesting to see if you could.” Kyubey jumped behind the desk and vanished at that point, just as Craig heard a door creaking open and froze, slowly turning towards the doorway.

There was Kevin, peeking through. “Who were you talking to?”

“No one,” Craig said quickly. “Skype, uh, I was on Skype.”

“What’s Skype?”

“You know, it’s kind of a chat program? You talk to people over it. Over the internet. I was on the internet.” One of those things was not a lie.

“Uhuh.” Kevin narrowed his eyes. “You were talking to something there. I saw it.”

He saw it? Kevin saw Kyubey? Craig hoped Kevin didn’t see how his eyes widened for a moment and coughed into his fist. “I’ll explain later, okay? There was no one there. You’re probably half-asleep and seeing things. Go to bed. Fact: lack of sleep stunts your growth.”

Kevin scowled, muttered something about ‘you’d know’ and shut the door again. Craig’s shoulders slumped. He’d have to come up with a convincing story for Kevin tomorrow. Right now he had to e-mail Chell about an urgent matter and do more research, which meant this might be another night when he didn’t get any sleep at all.

* * *

 

Skype. Craig expected Kevin to believe he was on a chat program? Did he think Kevin was stupid? Just because Kevin wasn’t the perfect family genius and Student Council president didn’t mean Craig could treat him like an idiot. Kevin saw something there. It was white, but illuminated pink from some kind of red light. Was Craig hiding a cat? Why would he do something like that and not tell Kevin? Kevin loved cats. He’d help Craig keep it a secret until they figured out how to convince Mom and Dad to keep it.And why was he talking to a cat about earthquakes? He knew he was supposed to get more sleep. The doctors had told him he still wasn’t at full strength yet and needed some time resting at home before returning to St. Aperture’s in January. Instead he sat at the windowsill, looking up at the stars. It was hard to see them with all the city lights. Someday he’d visit one of those observatories out in the countryside where one could see an endless sky of stars. He’d be surrounded by people like him who loved space just as much as he did, and one of them would work for the NASA and tell him how to enter the astronaut training program. He’d be strong enough by then too, not so easily winded and with more of an appetite.

“You know he was talking to an alien, right?”

The little voice made him jump away from the windowsill. He couldn’t see who was talking to him. Certainly there was no one else in the room, let alone anyone with a high-pitched female voice. When he glanced at the window again, his gaze fell on a brilliantly red songbird sitting on the ledge, pecking at the windowsill. Birds like that weren’t common in winter and definitely didn’t come out at night. Not sure why he was doing it, he opened the window to let the bird in, shivering at the cold air blowing in before he shut it again.

The little red bird fluttered and landed on his bedpost. “Thank you! It was so cold out there.”

“You’re a-“ Kevin caught himself and lowered his voice to a whisper. “You’re a talking bird! How are you talking? Who trained you to talk? I saw on TV once someone trained a grey parrot to talk. Are you like that?”

The bird chuckled. “Of course not! I’m an alien, just like the creature Craig was talking to.”

An alien. Was he really talking to an alien? Kevin stared, taking deep breaths. “Are you here to invade?”

“No! I’m a friendly alien.”

“I read in a book that aliens wouldn’t look like Earth creatures at all. How come you’re a bird?”

The bird ruffled her feathers, and Kevin worried he was testing the alien’s patience. If he was making first contact, he didn’t want to leave aliens with a bad impression of humanity. “I’m just taking the form of a bird right now so people don’t discover me.”

“…Ohh. That makes sense.” Kevin pulled his knees up under his chin. “Why’d you come visit me?”

“Because you saw Craig talking to another alien! And he wants to keep that secret all to himself.”

“Craig?” Kevin wrinkled his nose. “Aliens talked to CRAIG?”

“But it’s okay! We can tell you have a good heart and a sharp mind. So we’re going to tell you secrets, too!”

Kevin heard his mother’s voice down the hall behind the closed door. “I hear chitchat,” she warned. “You boys had better be in bed talking in your sleep.”

“OH! That’s my mom,” Kevin whispered, opening the window up again. “You’d better hide…”

The bird looked disappointed for a moment, giving a strange look towards the door, and something on her chest flashed red for a second. “I guess I have no choice. But I’ll be back! When I come back, I’ll tell you everything, okay? And don’t tell Craig about me. He’ll just forbid you from seeing me because he’s greedy.”

She flew off, and Kevin shut the window quickly before crawling into bed. He didn’t sleep a wink, staring up at the ceiling and trying to figure out if the whole thing had been a dream. It didn’t feel real. Had he really met an alien? Was Craig talking to aliens? It would explain why he was such a space cadet. 

Were the aliens the reason why he’d recovered so quickly after months of doctors trying to pretend he wasn’t dying?   
Even if Craig was keeping a secret from him, could he really keep more secrets from Craig?

* * *

 

Penelope landed and yawned, turning back into her human form before she opened the glass patio door to Glados’s hotel room. “It’s freezing out there! Thank god a zombie body doesn’t get hypothermia, huh?”

Glados smiled and chuckled, pressing a cup of hot cocoa into Penelope’s hands. “You did well. Go wash up and get some sleep. Believe me, this is going to be really easy. You just have to put on a cutesy cheerful act for a while. You can do that, right?”

“Sure, sure.” Penelope stretched, brushing snow out of her clothes. She didn’t really care if she got Glados’s hotel room wet; the queen could deal with it. “Not sure why this stupid kid is important, but whatever.”

“It’s for science.”

“Science, yeah, sure.” Penelope spotted Rita sleeping on an armchair, and smirked. There was something satisfying about seeing the queen’s pet bodyguard stuck on a chair while Penelope got the bed. Obviously Rita was screwing up too often, and Penelope herself was elevated in the queen’s favor. No more being shown up by a charity case.

“Well, thanks for the hot cocoa, anyway. Um, is Alex doing better?”

Glados was back to looking at that infernal laptop. “Oh, he’s fine. I put him in another hotel room, of course, with the other Court boys. No sneaking off to see him.”

“Fine, fine.” Penelope rolled her eyes and set her cocoa down. “I’ll go wash up. God, I hate winter…”

As she stood, she could have sworn she saw one of Rita’s eyes open. It was only for a second, though, and Rita seemed to be deep asleep otherwise, so Penelope let it go.


	13. "She takes everything from me."

“Is there ever any good weather in this city?” Wheatley scowled at Chell from under an umbrella, his jeans soaked almost up to the knee. It looked like he’d gotten splashed by a car a few times. “The rain’s washing all the snow away, too. It’s just going to leave that-that bloody gross hard grey stuff that builds up on the roadside and never goes away until April.”

“Smud,” Chell suggested, actually chuckling. The fact that Wheatley was back to normal, for better or worse, was a little bit of a relief. He’d been acting strange the other day. Craig had invited them to meet him for training, though she hoped he had a dry location in mind. In fact, he’d mentioned an ‘urgent matter,’ but Chell thought it best not to bring that up to Wheatley right away. She didn’t need him losing his nerve again.

She glanced at her phone. Another attempt to text Rita had been ignored; she wondered if she should just give up. Rita wasn’t happy in the Court, clearly, but she also seemed determined not to leave.  Moreover, Craig was…

“Five minutes late. He’s never late.” It was as if Wheatley read her thoughts. He was pacing, feet splashing in a puddle. “Don’t suppose he got distracted with a video game? Or the rain slowed him down. Yes. I’m sure it’s fine, there’s no way he ran into trouble or anything. I mean, he’s Craig, he’s the reliable one-you’re reliable, too! You’re very reliable! I’m just saying, I wouldn’t expect either one of you to run into trouble, or…Oh! There he is!” Sounding relieved, Wheatley waved at their approaching teammate.

Craig had his hood up on his own jacket, and he only nodded in response. “We should find somewhere quiet to talk,” he whispered once he was close enough.

“And dry?” Wheatley asked hopefully.

“Mm…yeah. Dry…”

* * *

The subway station was no place to train, but it was dry, at least. It also let the three of them talk among crowds where they’d be less likely to stand out, and their conversation could be drowned out.

Craig had a series of documents he’d printed out, with graphs, and whatever he was trying to talk about had him nervous enough to talk in a breathless and speedy manner that matched Wheatley.

“So I was up all night researching. Ordinarily I don’t like drinking caffeine because it stunts your growth, but I made myself some coffee to stay up. So there’s something about Port Alto. I don’t know what it is, but any time other Magi on the internet-“

“There are other Magi on the internet?” Of course, Chell thought, Wheatley couldn’t go long without interrupting.

“Of course there are! Everything’s on the internet. Anyway, whenever Port Alto came up in discussion, the tone turned very negative. Fact: nobody wants to be a Magi in Port Alto. I figured it was because of the Court, which is apparently sort of an anomaly. Other cities and places don’t have Courts. It’s usually every Magi for themselves, competing over Grief Seeds if they’re in the same area.”

“That’s what Rita told me,” Chell confirmed. “I think it’s why she still supports the Court to some extent. Tyranny over anarchy.”

“Fact: There are also an unusually high concentration of Witches in our city. I’m not sure why,” Craig admitted. “We’re no higher in, uh, despair than other locations. People seem to think it started up soon after the Valley Street Quake…”

“Wait, wait.” Wheatley injected himself back into the conversation with alarm. “Wait, quake? As in earthquake?”

“Yes. Apparently-“

“We get bloody EARTHQUAKES here? I thought you only got those in California! We’re on the opposite side of the whole bloody country!”

Craig took a deep breath. “Yes, but fault lines exist throughout the North American continent. Sometimes they form due to strain on the crust. Anyway, apparently-“

“Why didn’t anyone tell me we get earthquakes? Now I have to worry about that!” Wheatley dug his fingers through his hair. “My flat is not earthquake safe, let me tell you mate! Got hanging things all over the place, and the building’s old…”

“ _Apparently_. “ Craig fixed Wheatley with a look that seemed to scare the other boy more than the prospect of geological upheaval, and then continued. “After that incident, Witch attacks started increasing, becoming more frequent than they statistically should have been when compared with other locations. Of course, this is all data based on hearsay, although someone’s been posting up research under some anonymous name. If I could track their IP, I could find out more. And for all I know, it’s a Court trick designed to mislead people and scare them off so they can claim the whole city as theirs…”

Chell wrinkled her forehead in thought. “There are a lot of Witches here, though. Rita said so. Said there was a lot more activity here than in Austin or anywhere else she’d been…”

“There’s more.” Craig flipped through a few pages of his document. “Kyubey told me that incredibly powerful Witches can manifest outside of their Labyrinths and cause damage that humans-I mean, uh, normal humans perceive as being from a natural disaster. There’s a lot that’s weird about that quake, and considering all the other elements, I think it might have been a Witch. There’s…apparently rumors of two singularly powerful Magi who defeated a menacing Witch a long time ago, but vanished afterwards.”

“Probably became Witches themselves.” Chell hated to be grim, but it was a realistic prospect.

“Is, um…” Wheatley sounded very uncomfortable. “Is that going to happen again?”

Craig frowned, sticking his paperwork back inside of his backpack. Chell spotted a rare look of defeat in his eyes. “I don’t know. Kyubey said something terrible might happen as a result of someone’s Wish, as if I had the power to stop it. Someone who made a powerful wish might become a powerful Witch. But mine was just on behalf of another person, and Wheatley’s was clingy but not terribly ambitious…”

The color drained from Chell’s face, and she could tell the two of them noticed. She wanted to dismiss it, but as their leader, she figured they had a right to know. “My wish.”

“What? What about your wish?” Wheatley scratched his head. “Far as I can tell, it makes people think you’re keen.”

“It was that I wanted to be someone who inspired others. Caroline used to say it was a significant wish, and she figured it was tied to me using spatial magic, but never figured out why.” Chell dug her hands into her jeans. “You don’t think that counts, right…?”

“What?” Wheatley frowned and immediately shook his head. “Nooo. No! A dangerous or powerful wish would be something like, ‘I wish to rule a country’ or ‘I wish to be remarkably wealthy’ or ‘I wish to be Prime Minister.’ Something greedy and broad-reaching, right? Yours is just kind of vague.”

“But it does make you powerful in a sense,” Craig observed, still sounding distant again. “You have the ability to influence others into becoming Magi by inspiring them, such as what happened with Wheatley.” Chell winced, and Wheatley said nothing, looking away. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. But in a sense, you’re probably generating a lot of power for Kyubey. That might mean you’ve made a significant wish…but that doesn’t mean anything! I don’t know who anyone else wished for,” he added quickly, eyes widening. “We might be over thinking this.”

“If I turn.”

Chell didn’t look up, but she knew Wheatley and Craig were both staring at her.

“If I start to turn, kill me.”

Craig kept staring, and Wheatley immediately sputtered in protest. “What? No! No, we could never do that! You’re-I mean I couldn’t-that’s completely unnecessary! Because you won’t become a Witch, see? You’ve got to be the least likely to become a Witch of all of us, you’ve got your head on straight and you’re experienced and…” He seemed to deflate. “Please don’t ask me to do that.”

She looked up at both of them, expression dead serious. “Promise me.”

They were both silent, before Craig slowly nodded, though he had trouble making eye contact with Chell. Wheatley hesitated and then slumped, nodding as well.

“Alright, alright, I bloody promise.” He said that, of course, but Chell had a feeling she couldn’t rely on Wheatley to do it. It was maybe a little unfair to ask it of him, considering his crush on her. “But you know what? It’s not going to come to that, so let’s drop this nonsense about turning into Witches ourselves, okay? Happy thoughts! Or if not happy, uh, productive thoughts! We stop this disaster if there IS going to be one and Kyubey’s not just giving us the business, and we look after the newbies…”

“Hey, Chell. You done with the martyr act?”

None of them had said that, and none had a Texan accent either. Three sets of eyes looked up and behind the bench to spy Rita, giving all present a flat stare. “Pff. Typical. ‘Oh gosh, if I become a Witch, pleeease break my Gem first!’ Yeah, you even gotta be noble about that, dontcha?”

Chell should have been happy that Rita was approaching her, but the tensions finally lit her temper. “What. How am I supposed to react?”

“You survive! If you think you’re gonna be a monster Witch, you just make sure you do everything in your damn power not to turn into one. Find something that keeps you afloat. Idiot Boy’s got optimism, the nerd has…you know, being a nerd.” Rita crossed her arms and then leaned her back against the bench. “So. The Court’s doing something a little too disgusting for me.”

Anything Chell had in response to Rita’s survivalist plan deflated and flew away when Rita admitted the Court had gone too far. “…What? What are they doing?”

“Should you really be telling us this?” Craig eyed Rita carefully. “Fact is, it’s a little suspicious that you’d just approach us in public telling us you’re annoyed with the Court after Chell’s tried so hard to recruit you away. Unless this is a trick.”

Rita’s face turned red, and she stood up straight again, making a fist at Craig, who shrank back reflexively. “A trick!? Now see here Shorty, I don’t use tricks! I ain’t into them. Rita the Adventure Girl’s 100 percent straightforward. But I know the queen ain’t like that. Knew that for a long time, and I just overlooked it because she knew how to survive. We don’t even know how old she is. If there’s a secret to not turning into a Witch, she’s gonna find it someday.”

“But…?” Chell had to admit, even she was a little suspicious at this point.

“I’ve never known her to recruit anyone into Contracting. She’s helping that little asshole screw some other kid over. I knew they were friendly, but I never figured…” She took a deep breath, moving like she was going to punch the bench to let out steam, but stopping at the last minute and punching the air again.

“Alex is probably watching me, the douchebag. You know I don’t even know where that guy comes from? He and Penelope joined a few months after you left, Chell. Now I wonder if she tricked them into Contracting, too.”

“Alex goes to my school,” Wheatley offered weakly. “But he skips all the time.”

“…So.” Chell took a deep breath, trying to process what Rita was talking about. “She’s actively seeking people out for Kyubey to Contract with so she can have them in her Court and treat them like puppets?”  _Oh god, is that what I do too? I inspire people and they Contract, and now I’ve got a Court…_

Thankfully, Rita didn’t seem to catch on to the awful connection Chell was making. “Kid’s a  _douchebag_. Moment he turns into a Witch I’m gonna throw a damn party. And no, before you ask I can’t leave yet. I gotta…think of an exit strategy. Think things over.”

It wasn’t a promise that Rita was going to join Chell, but even knowing her former friend was finally going to worm her way out of Glados’s touches gave Chell her first sense of optimism in a while. She could save Rita, if nothing else. She found herself smiling a little bit. “Going solo again?”

“I dunno.” Rita slumped, looking as deflated as she did after Alice’s death, and Chell’s smile vanished immediately. “Don’t think I could go back to that…anyway. Nerd.”

Craig snapped to attention.

“Ha, I like how you’re all nerds but you still immediately knew who I was talkin’ about. You see Kyubey around your place, throw him out the window. Or kill him if no one’s around. We do it all the time, it doesn’t stick.”

“Kill? What? But how-wait, my place?!” Craig raised his voice in panic and stood up straight. “He wouldn’t…!”

“Already said too much. If Invisible Douche or his rat-toothed girlfriend are around, that’s probably enough for me. But at least I go out fightin’, right?” Rita laughed, but Chell sensed discomfort and sadness under her usual bravado. She glanced at her ring as it started to flash seconds before the others did. “Say…you let me get this one in exchange for the info I just gave you, alright? Deal?”

Chell knew what would happen to Grief Seeds captured by Court members. It might go to keeping Rita alive, but it was just as likely to go to keeping Glados’s corpse alive. On the other hand, fair was fair. Rita might have saved someone’s life at a great risk to herself. “…Alright. Thanks, Rita…”

“Don’t get sappy.” That was the last thing Rita said before she disappeared into the crowd, weaving a path towards some unseen Labyrinth.

Craig stood up and started pacing. “I-I have to go. I’m sorry. It’s my-“

“It’s fine.” Chell held up a hand. “Go. Do you need us to come?” He wouldn’t, would he? Kevin was a full year younger. Thirteen year olds shouldn’t have to go through this. Of course, neither should fourteen or fifteen year olds, she added mentally.

And it was Kyubey.

“I can set up, um, a barrier around your house! Yes, big blue crystal barrier that Kyubey can probably get past and that your parents probably can’t…no, you’re right, that would be no good,” Wheatley muttered to himself. “Well, maybe we can camp on your roof and keep watch! In the rain. When I assume you live in an apartment building as well and the roof’s probably much higher up. Well! Maybe-“

“It’s fine…I appreciate the offer, but none of those ideas are viable, Wheatley.” Craig’s voice was shaking, and was pacing back and forth in front of the bench, nearly bumping into busy commutes. “But I could use extra sets of eyes, because I have to look into this quake incident more. But I have to keep track of Kevin. Wait! Come to dinner tonight! No, not tonight, Wheatley said he has dinner with his uncle. Tomorrow! No, Grandma’s coming over and I don’t want to impose on Mom. Thursday! Come over for dinner on Thursday. You’re my normal school friends.” Without waiting for an answer, Craig dashed off, leaving behind a few pages of his document. Chell gathered them up in case anyone was watching.

Wheatley and Chell watched him go, and Wheatley was the first one to talk again. “Did he just invite us for dinner?”

“Yes.”

“I haven’t been invited to someone’s house for dinner in a long time…I mean, awful to be happy about it considering the circumstances, though, yeah?” Wheatley fiddled with his jacket and stared idly at the train listings. “Glados recruiting, though… I guess that would be bloody rotten, wouldn’t it? I mean, Contract to save someone and then THEY contract and you know what that means, so…well, that’d be a bum deal, wouldn’t it. Might just push him over the edge and cause him to-OH CHELL we can’t let that happen!” The panic soaked his voice like a fountain and he gripped the edge of the bench. “Neither one of you can become a Witch, okay? I couldn’t stand it…!”

Sure, Wheatley was asking them not to become Witches for his own sake, but even selfish concern was still touching in a way. She set a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be fine. Like you said, it won’t happen because we won’t let it happen.”

“Right! Right…” He exhaled quickly, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “You think we should camp out at his house or something anyway, just in case?”

“I don’t think we should trespass, Wheatley.” She stared in the direction where he ran off. “And it might still be a Court trick on Rita’s part. But be ready to respond if I need you.” She held up her phone as an indication.

He nodded, glancing at his and blinking. “Oh, it’s that late? Man alive, I had better get going. I promised to meet Uncle for dinner. Isn’t that great? We’re finally going to be able to talk and everything now. Tell you what, I won’t be becoming a Witch at least.” He smiled, though it was that forced, hollow smile he’d defaulted to for a while now where it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Going to be around a long time keeping Craig’s little brother safe and getting him to help with my homework and drinking hot chocolate with you…uh, platonically,” he added.

"You're finally getting along with your uncle again? Then go! We'll get hot chocolate later." She urged him onward before sitting back down on the bench.

So another day and no training completed, but Chell felt a little more confident in her court even if she was more worried about them. In their line of work, bad news was better than no news. Wasn't that what Glados was always going on about, information keeping them alive? She stared down into her own lap and examining the document page thoughtfully. It was all speculation on the ‘Valley Street Witch.’

It was just as well to be left alone. She had a lot to think about.

* * *

 “Kevin!” Craig burst into Kevin’s bedroom as the younger brother looked up from his astronomy book, raising an eyebrow at Craig.

“…Yeah?”

“…Uh, nothing.” Craig coughed into his fist and seemed to play it straight. Kevin decided not to worry about his brother’s latest case of the Mysterious Weirdness and instead held up a picture of Europa.

"Did you know they think there might be life on Europa? There might be liquid water under the surface with, uh, things living inside there. It’d be the only other place in the Solar System with life on it.” Kevin grinned at the very thought of little creatures swimming in a subterranean space sea.

Which reminded him of the odd dream he’d had. But that was just a dream, right? Aliens were absolutely real, but there’s no way they’d contract  _Craig_. They’d get too bored and leave.

“That’s…very interesting, actually.” Craig blinked and looked at the picture, before shaking his head. “Anyway, sorry, I just wanted to check on you.”

“I’m fiiine.” Kevin set the book on his lap. “Nobody believes me, but I feel great. Mom still won’t let me go outside to play.”

Craig pointed at the window. “And you shouldn’t. It’s pouring out there, and if you’re still recovering you shouldn’t be putting yourself in situations where you could get sick all over again. You wanna go through all that and then get pneumonia and put yourself in the hospital again?”

“I woooon’t!” Kevin pulled his knees up under his chin and pouted. Craig was fun sometimes when he was talking about interesting facts, but often it was like having a third parent who forgot that Kevin was only a little bit younger. Just because he was the baby of the family didn’t make him a baby. “But I hope I can go outside and play before winter ends. I wanna play basketball again.”   

“We’ll play basketball again when it’s not raining, okay? I promise.” Craig sounded distracted again, and Kevin had a feeling Craig would forget about that promise the moment he decided to become president of another club or write another article for the school newspaper instead.

“I’ll beat you this time. I’m taller.”

“Oh, you are NOT taller.” There, that got Craig good and annoyed. There was his big brother again. It was good to know Kevin could still play the properly pesky younger sibling.

“I’m gonna be taller!” There was no arguing that. Kevin already showed signs of having his mother’s tall build, and Craig grew at a snail’s pace.

Craig didn’t answer, and Kevin saw that distant look in his eyes as the older boy stared out the window at nothing. There was nothing out there! Nothing but street and rain. And yet Craig was still being a distracted weirdo. A distracted, secretive weirdo…

"Hey. Hey, Craig.”

“…Yeah?”

“If you were communicating with aliens from outer space, real confirmed aliens NASA doesn’t know about, you’d tell me right?”

“…What?” Craig stared at Kevin with an oddly guilty look in his eyes. “What? Of course not. I mean, of course I would tell you if I saw aliens. You’d know because I’d tell the NEWS if I saw aliens. So I haven’t. Nothing. No aliens, okay? Nothing.”

Waaait a second. Was it possible? Was Kevin’s dream with the red bird alien and her friend the white bunny thing real? Would Craig really be keeping something like that? Or was Craig just driving himself crazy through overworking?

“…Okay, just checking.” Too soon to draw conclusions, he decided. Time to stay up and see if his friend showed up again. Then she’d tell him everything, if she did exist, and he’d find out what was going on for sure. “You’re weird.”

“You’re weird.”

“Nerd.”

“Space cadet.”

There was a warm nostalgia to that exchange, one they used to have all the time when they were younger and shared a room. But it felt so distant and rote from Craig, in a way that made Kevin feel uncomfortable and lonely. He picked up the book again, and just went back to reading about Europa.

Maybe there really were aliens. They’d understand why he loved space. He always knew they were waiting for him. He’d stay up that night again, in case the red bird appeared. Could she teach him how to fly? Surely they at least would spend some time with him.

But why would they have contacted Craig…? Didn't they know Kevin was the one watching the heavens?

* * *

 

The Witch had been little trouble. Rita didn’t mind hunting alone, although she had to admit she missed having a reliable partner. Alice’s energy and physical strength had complimented her own fighting style well, and the blond girl seemed to enjoy Witch hunting as much as Rita herself, a rarity. Alice, of course, enjoyed everything. No wonder Glados targeted her; Rita should have known it would happen.

As the desert of green sand around her started to crumble, the body of the Sphinx Witch falling into itself and melting into black goo, a familiar form stepped up to grab the Grief Seed. Rita was fast enough that she knew she could beat the other to it, but didn’t try. She half expected this.

Glados had her hair up in a long French braid and took her time examining the Seed with those big eyes of hers. She didn’t make eye contact with Rita. “I knew you weren’t asleep.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Rita didn’t look directly at Glados either, though she was scanning the station for signs of rustled papers or people bumping into something that wasn’t there. They were in a quiet end of the station, a natural place for a Witch to have manifested or for an ambush. “This some kinda loyalty test, then?”

“You could say that. Everyone leaves in the end, though. No one’s ever loyal to you because they like you.” Did Glados sound sad under her default mocking tone, or was she faking it? “Do you need this?”

“You’re actually recruiting someone though, aren’t ya? And this isn’t the first time.”

Glados used the seed on her ever-darkening gem and tossed the rest right to Rita. “I was tricked too. We all were. Before you ask, I didn’t recruit Alice. I don’t know how she Contracted.”

Rita still refused to look at Glados, this time concentrating on trying to clear out the strain of darkness in her green Gem. “I mean, I knew you were a petty bully. I knew that. I just figured you had a plan, a way to beat him somehow, or you were workin’ on one. That all this would be worth it cuz you’d break the whole system apart. That’s why you gotta live so long, right? That’s why we gotta enforce your princess fantasy on the whole city and watch our friends suffer. It’ll all be worth it because you’ll use that brain of yours to find a loophole.”

There was no response from Glados for once, but Rita didn’t wait to hear it. She stared out at the subway tracks. “That’s what Caroline told me. She was real optimistic about your work. She knew one of us had to elude the system and keep on living long enough to outwit Kyubey. And Caroline was a real smart girl.” Finally she turned to face Glados again, keeping her tone cold and flat. “But you don’t know how, do you? There ain’t no loophole. You just wanna keep yourself alive so you don’t die.”

“Well, everyone wants to live. Everyone makes sacrifices of others so they can keep living. People eat things. We eat Witches. Kyubey eats us.” Glados sat down on a bench against the tiled wall as a train came to a screeching halt, waiting for it to pass so she could speak again. “I’m testing, though. I’m going to understand everything. You’re right in that I haven’t found the key or the loophole yet. I knew someone who used to rave about a messiah or savior or whatever he called her.”

Rita wrinkled her forehead. “Did you just call Jesus a ‘her?’

“No, not Jesus. Look, we all know you’re better at ballistics and combat than critical thinking, so let me explain.” There, Glados’s angry condescension had returned. It was a relief. If she planned to kill Rita, Rita at least didn’t want her to mope about it. “Something about a goddess wreathed in the cloaks of time, whose reach surpassed universes. He was also delusional, cursed to it because of his wish. But I’m sure he told me that, me of all people, for a reason. He meant me to become that goddess. I was the one ruthless and intelligent enough to survive, the one capable of living on until I became that goddess. I’ll keep living and testing until I know everything. I’ll figure out how the Incubators warp reality and warp it myself to trap them all in the heart of a star. A big blue one, I think, because I always liked the idea of blue stars.”

Another train ran by, this one not stopping, and both girls stayed silent. Rita felt like her head was spinning. She knew Glados truly believed herself to be some kind of queen on some level, but this was the first mention of seeking honest goddess-hood. Had Glados finally gone off the deep end, or had she been there the whole time with Rita too stubborn to notice?

“So that Kevin kid is worth it, I suppose. Alice was worth it. Everyone we push around for your sake, they’re all worth it. You’re gonna say that now, ain’tcha, Queenie?”

“Hmm.” Glados sighed, looking at her white Gem with its pearly, swirling glow. “Maybe if you live long enough, you end up like Kyubey. So you’re quitting, I take it.”

Rita knew the answer, but didn’t say it. “You let Chell quit.”

“I like to think I kicked her out, but I suppose she claims she quit. Because she is a liar and a monster who will take everything from me.”

“Look, I never said I’m joining her.”

“But you are, aren’t you? And even if you’re not, you’re leaving because of something I’m doing against her. Like I said, she takes everything from me.” Glados stood, holding her hand over her ring as if she were about to transform.

“Oh! It’s gonna be like that, then? Gotta fight for my freedom like some kinda gladiator?” Rita laughed and stood up, finally grinning again. “And in front of everyone! You got more nerve than I thought, White Queen.”

“Oh no, not in front of everyone. That’d bring too much attention. And I’m not going to fight you. I wanted to settle things with you first, person to person, so you could see my side of the situation. I want you to think about it while we punish you.”

“Punish-?!” Rita had no time to say much else as something bit her in the back of the neck. It was tiny and sharp, like a rat’s teeth, but the wound burned and left her vision fuzzy. Her legs fell out from under her, and Glados caught her, the other girl’s cold gaze warped by Rita’s distorted vision.

“I had to smear my toxin spell all over Penelope’s teeth. She’s quite a trooper, just like you used to be.” Glados brushed hair out of Rita’s face, the latter too weak and her face too numb to tell Glados where to stick her toxin. She probably should have expected an ambush, but it was disarming seeing Glados so gentle. “Oh, and I did plan for you to tell him. I figured you would. I wanted to see them squirm. I want them to know exactly what the cost is for dealing with me. Shh, shh.” Glados placed a finger on Rita’s lips. “Look, you’re so exhausted you’ve collapsed! Come on, let’s get you back home…”

* * *

“Hmm? What? Oh, dinner? Yeah, it’s going along fine! Splendid, mate. Uncle’s got big plans, and he says we’ll be able to move into a better place once the deal goes through! And he’s sure it will. Uh, industry? He…science, it’s science? I don’t know, he doesn’t tell me much about it.”

The other patrons of the restaurant mostly paid no mind to the boy sitting on a chair near the front doors, though the busy host occasionally stole an awkward look at him.

“No, no, it’s fine! I can definitely do Thursday night. I mean, long as your mum and dad don’t mind. You can say we’re study partners or-no, friends is fine too…they make chili without meat?…no, no, it sounds fine! Beans and stuff, right?…okay! Okay, yes, I’ll let you go. Should get back anyway, don’t want to keep Uncle waiting! We ordered bao. Those are the big fluffy ones. Always liked the look of those. Anyway, uh, bye!”

Wheatley ended the call and stared at his phone. He really should have just gone home when he got the hastily-texed apology from Cave, but the idea that he might run into Chell or Craig on the way back, however unlikely, lingered in his mind and kept him waiting. Besides, just say Cave’s schedule cleared up again and he could make it, and Wheatley wasn’t there! Wouldn’t that hurt Cave, to be stood up like that? It wouldn’t be fair at all.

He checked the time, looked outside through the glass doors at the street lights distorted by pouring rain, and reached for his umbrella. Trying to look as nonchalant as possible and hide his burning embarrassment, he walked up to the counter.

“Um, yes. Actually, mate, I’ll just take an order to go…”


	14. "I'm not cold at all..."

The three dreamed of stars, a sea of them glimmering endlessly in all directions. One sat on the Earth as if it were a throne, garbed in flowing robes of white and gray and sipping from a china teacup. One stood on the moon as if it were his soapbox, his robes dark grey and his hands restlessly itching his sides. One perched on a star.

“I’m not asking you to agree with me. Besides, I rather like our discussions.” The young woman tapped the side of her cup idly with her index finger.

“I just can’t understand your position anymore. I’m sorry. I do respect you, but…” The wild-eyed boy shifted his weight from one foot to the other on his miniature lunar perch. “I had dreams where…”

“One dream of salvation isn’t worth the risk of a thousand nightmares of destruction.” The girl waved her hand, and below her the Earth was enveloped by a bleeding black mass, bled dry of life in seconds. The boy looked away and covered his mouth. “You saw that too, didn’t you? You had one good dream and clung to it, but that’s all it was. Be thankful the nightmares didn’t come true as well.”

“It was the one hopeful vision I’ve ever had. I still have it, too. It just changes. It always changes. I can’t let go of it. I’ll chase it forever.”

Oriko sighed. “Of course you will. I suppose I could say it’s not my problem anymore, though that sounds terribly dismissive. I failed to protect Mitakihara from all threats. And if I had lived, I would have tried to eliminate that girl again. It’s my duty.”

Doug looked away, fidgeting with his coat. “Is it lonely, being a ghost?”

“Terribly. But I’ll find my Kirika and my peace.” Oriko closed her eyes. “Keep chasing hope and you’ll know what it’s like, too.”

* * *

Kevin sat up in bed, gasping for breath, his heart racing as if he’d had a nightmare. But it wasn’t a nightmare at all, was it? It was a beautiful dream. He was in space, and magnificent figures stood on the moon and the Earth, robed like gods.

Aliens…?

At his window, he saw the shadow of a rabbit-like creature and a pair of glowing red eyes. By the time he ran up to open the window, it was gone, and only a gust of cold wet wind greeted him.

* * *

“It gets so bloody dark this time of year.” Wheatley didn’t care if anyone heard him mumbling to himself under his umbrella. Other people barely registered with him as he trudged through puddles, ignoring glaring neon lights and police sirens. “I mean, it always does. Don’t know why I’m surprised. Come to think of it, why am I still surprised when things stay just as predictable as they’ve always been?”

Briefly aware of the tears stinging against his face, he lowered the umbrella and let the rain splash against his face for a few seconds. “There. Now no one can tell the difference. Wasn’t crying, not crying. What sort of proper young man cries over missing a dinner meeting, yeah?” It registered somewhere that early December rain should have been colder than that, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t particularly hot, cold or anything. Everything felt a little numb.

“But really though, that’s a good question. Why am I ever surprised? Nothing really changes. Nothing changes for the better, anyway. Sure I’ve got superpowers and I know monsters exist, and my soul’s in a rock, and I get to be one of the monsters someday instead of me. Good existential horrors but nothing really changes, does it? I mean, nobody really wants me around. They tolerate me because they have to. Uncle, he’s got to care for me, it’s in my dad’s will. Got to care because I’m blood. He’s got his big grand plans and it’s not his fault I was never part of it.”          

“And they, I mean, my friends I guess, they need me around for the reasons Alex said. I’m this thing they can protect, or something. I mean they won’t say it but I’m sure that’s what they’re thinking.” The street lights blurred, and Wheatley had to lean on a tree for support for a moment. He waved it off when a passing woman asked if he was alright. “No, I’m fine! Sorry, just a little headache…hmph, can’t even walk straight. They probably think I’m some underage drunken delinquent.”

The downward spiral his thoughts had a habit of taking lately wouldn’t stop like it usually did. He reached for optimistic lies and they wouldn’t come. There was no ‘but at least.’ “But why should there be? I mean, why do I always have to smile and play nice for everyone else? Chell’s allowed to brood. Craig can talk serious business all the time. Bloody Rita gets to be upset over this, so why do I have to smile? Is that all I am, all I can do for anyone? Just smile? Pretend it’s okay? I mean, I can’t tell Craig what’s going on, he’s got enough to deal with. And Chell, she won’t respect me. When I say upbeat things it makes her happy. But it’s not like…not like she…I mean, the way I feel for her isn’t how she…”

He realized after a few moments that he didn’t know where he was. He’d missed a turn blocks ago, walking in a gloomy daze. This road led downtown, and he didn’t know downtown very well even after living there as long as he did.

“…Okay, no matter. No worries, I’ll just look it up on the old phone…” As he pulled it out, his only response was a flashing battery signal. “Bloody hell…!” In frustration, he tossed it down with the full force he usually used in battle, wincing as he heard a shatter.

“…I really didn’t mean to do that, I didn’t. Oh crumbs…” He knelt down to the broken mess. “That cost Uncle money! That we don’t have a lot of! He’s not going to like this, no he’s not. It was such a nice phone, too. I mean, he got it for me as a present…”

The tears started to sting in his eyes again, and he had to force himself to stand back up. “I can’t go home like this. I’ll say it was stolen, I guess. He won’t know. Will he even ask? I doubt I’ll even see him tomorrow. I doubt if…if I didn’t come home tonight, he’d even…”

The spiral continued unabated. He couldn’t stop it, any more than he could halt the pouring rain or sharp winds. “You know, I wouldn’t have agreed to it if he was around, I bet. I only glommed onto her because I was so lonely, and she was-is, still is like this shining star, this amazing person I can’t match up to. But I wouldn’t have needed to shine if someone had just said ‘you know, Wheatley, even if you’re a bit dim we still’…god, what  am I even getting at? Who am I talking to? Am I just looking for someone to blame besides myself and Kyubey?”

He covered his face with his hands, letting the umbrella drop to his knees as he leaned against the side of a hospital building. “But I can’t blame her! I can’t be mad at her! I really ought to be but I can’t! She really is a shining star and she probably resents this dumb crush I have on her but I can’t stop! I can’t turn it off! And it’s not even fake, that’s the worst part. If it was fake I could just go ‘oh, isn’t that how things are’ and know it was due to magic so it didn’t matter, it wouldn’t bloody matter. And maybe I should just…”

He looked up at the sky. Why were there such bright colors in a cloudy night sky? They were so vivid, too. Such lovely shades of blue, interlaced with streaks of black bleeding over like spilled ink.

The sirens and cars in the background faded to a faint echo  as he stared upwards. He could stay like this. It wasn’t as if he would die of exposure. Why not spend the night here? He had nothing to fear from anyone but the Court, and if they broke his Gem while he slept, his troubles at least would be over.

“And it’s not even cold. I’m not cold at all…”

* * *

“The problem with today is…”

Cave Johnson was talking to the indifferent bartender, or his drink, or possibly the miserable drunken sap sitting next to him. It didn’t matter. A man couldn’t go home and talk to his nephew about his problems. He was married to science, but science didn’t have a comforting shoulder to lean on. So he spoke aloud, and damn anyone who didn’t want to hear it.

“The problem with today, and by that I mean modern times…the problem is, nobody’s got vision anymore. Everyone’s focused on now. The immediate. ‘We need to know how this is gonna turn a profit right away, Johnson.’ ‘We just don’t think the economy’s ready for dimensional research, Johnson.’ These are small-minded men with tiny ambitions. Make a profit right now. Stick to the past and make a quick profit today.”

He swirled the ice in his whiskey. “I’m not a man of today. Cave Johnson is a man of the future. Am I making any sense? What do I care.” He slammed the glass down on the stained bar surface. “’We never know what the future holds.’ Bull. Shit! We don’t know because we haven’t tried. We say we have to take the good with the bad because we haven’t found a way to get rid of the bad yet. Did they say that about smallpox? Do they still say ‘you’ve just got to accept spending the winter huddling near a wood-burning stove?’ So why accept? Why accept, huh….?”

“Science.  I mean, I’m not a scientist myself. Lotta numbers. I do PR, business, dreams. I do the dreaming and the thinking and build up this company, give the scientists the tools they need, and they’ll  _create_  the future. And that’s all I wanted to give him, you know? The future.”

Cave gave a blurry glance over to the dark-haired man slumped next to him, but paid him little regard. “I mean, I’ll be honest. The kid’s not remarkable. Doesn’t have a lot of potential, if you ask me. Honestly, he’s kind of dim. But that’s what people like me are here for! To create things and pioneer for people like him. So he can have a good job in the company and get married and raise some kids. That’s…that’s what his father would have wanted, you know, just knowing the kid’s gonna be okay.”

"And I want to fix things for that future. You know, there’s all this shit we can’t explain. Kids keep disappearing. Kids! So what do we do with shit we can’t explain? We look into it and explain it. What do we need to do that? Guidance, leadership and money. Which I could provide if I could get the goddamn financers on board. Just need a damn business loan…or maybe I should have been born rich, huh? Then I wouldn’t have to worry about it.” He laughed sharply.

“See, because I can’t…stop bad stuff from happening. At least not yet. Reading about in the newspaper pisses me off. Here’s this awful thing happening beyond my control. Brother drives off a damn bridge with his wife, can’t comprehend it, can’t do a thing about it. With science, though? We can change all that. That’s what science is for. It makes miracles…”

He glanced at the clock. It was close to closing time, meaning he’d have to drag his carcass to a taxi. It was too cold and rainy to walk, but Cave wasn’t eager to spend more money. It was cathartic to rage against the universe, but it did very little for his problems.

“So you, buddy.” He looked back towards the other man. “What got you here? I can hear you crying, you know, quit covering your face with your goddamn hand.”

The man looked at Cave through his fingers, and then just turned away, the words mumbled as if causing him physical pain.

“My wife won’t take me back.”

* * *

Wheatley woke up to the smell of incense. More specifically, he sneezed himself awake.

Seconds later, as he sat up, he realized he was in an unfamiliar room on a clean but small cot, covered by heavy wool blankets and wearing a dry button-up shirt and pajamas. They smelled of detergent. The room was rather spacious and the window suggested they were on a high floor. It looked to be an artist’s loft of some kind, based on the numerous chalk drawings and paintings covering the walls, though the paint and chalk sometimes slipped past the canvas onto the wall itself. Here and there incomprehensible writing was scrawled in-between pictures of wings, cubes and red eyes. There was a lovely painting of a small town in a wheat field bordered by an odd, giant radio tower.  And Wheatley was completely alone.

“Hello?” He cleared his throat and spoke louder. “Um, hello? Excuse me? Do beg your pardon, but where am I and how did I end up here?”

There was no answer. He pulled the sheet up over him to fight a faint chill.

“Okay, alright. I do have a theory as to what might have happened. So listen, if you could answer this question in the nicest way possible, I’d quite appreciate that. Anyway, am I dead? Is this Heaven? Or is this purgatory? I mean I’m sort of agnostic at best, though I’d never say that in front of the Sisters or would I ever get a lecture. But I can understand why I’d be in purgatory in that case. Just, would like some confirmation one way or the other, yeah?”

The only sound was the faint hum of traffic outside. Out of concern, he set a hand on his chest and felt his heart beating.

“Okay, second question. I appear to be not dead, or at least as not-dead as I get nowadays. Long story, mate, but listen. What I want to know is, whoever you are, did you…happen to steal my kidneys? I heard of that happening, you know? You wake up and bam, no kidneys.” He paused. “I mean, I won’t be mad, exactly. I’ll be a little mad. I just do need to know because technically my body is dead and I’m not sure if that’ll affect the black market value of my internal organs. Wait, you know I could test that? Hold on.” He peeked under his pajamas. “Nope, no scarring at all! Everything intact. Except I might have healed that, but I’d think I would at least be a little sore. So you didn’t steal my kidneys. I really appreciate that.”

Wheatley sighed and accepted the fact that he was alone in this strange room, twisting the blanket in his hands. He considered his options. If he’d been kidnapped, he’d probably be able to overcome his kidnapper. He was an awful lich monster magical boy, and they probably weren’t. He still had his Gem on him in ring-form, which was a relief. He was warm and dry when his last clear memories had left him soaked and…numb, not cold. In fact, the numbness was still there to some extent, the warmth distant and faint. Subconsciously he scratched the back of his hand with his nails in an attempt to draw out some kind of sensation. He could tell he was doing it, but nothing hurt, not even when he started to draw blood…

Before he could process what that meant, he smelled something pleasant and dropped the sheet, looking over at a small table near the bed. There was a pizza, still warm and in the box, and completely intact. He looked around, peeking into the box and checking the toppings. Anchovy, but he was hungry enough to overpower pickiness.

“Um, listen! Person who may or may not be in the room somewhere. I found a pizza here. Couldn’t help but notice you left it, and I have to assume you left it for me. In the event you didn’t though, please say something!”

The silence continued. Wheatley, who had gotten in trouble for eating on impulse before, made sure to cover his tracks. “Alright, listen. I sort of left Chinese takeout somewhere on a rainy bench without realizing it last night because I was in something of a bad place. Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll be fine…! But I am hungry, so if for some reason you do not want me to eat, say, at least half of this pizza do say something within the next five seconds or so. Actually, I should be asking permission. So if you are okay with me eating, please say nothing and I’ll take that as a yes.”

“It’s fine. It’s not poisoned or anything.”

Wheatley nearly jumped sitting up at the voice, though it was so subdued and mild he could detect no warning in it. Where there had been a closed green door, a man with a shaggy black beard stood, stepping into the room after a moment. He gestured towards the pizza and nodded, his movements slow and deliberate. Something about him was off, not the least being the wild look in his eyes, but his smile was calm and Wheatley was famished. He figured poison couldn’t hurt him much anymore anyway, so he grabbed a slice and quietly watched the man approach.

“You don’t need to be afraid,” the artist said. “This must be a little off-putting, but I thought if I brought you to the hospital they’d ask too many questions.”

Wheatley stared at the man and swallowed. “Mate, if you’re trying to say that to make me think you’re not a crazy kidney-selling kidnapper you’re really not doing a good job.”

His visitor blinked, and then laughed, though it sounded like a tired chuckle. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant because of this.” He held up his hand, a Soul Gem ring glimmering grey on it.

“…..Oh. Ohhh. About that and everything else. Or they’d try to take my ring off and then…” Wheatley shuddered, still staring at the man’s Soul Gem. “But you’re an adult! I mean Kyubey said he doesn’t-at least he seemed to imply he wasn’t interested in Contracting grown people. Not enough to exploit, I suppose.” He didn’t realize he’d started scratching the back of his hand again.

“No, you’re right. He thinks young humans have the strongest threshold for emotion. Hormones, lack of social power and all that. This is sort of a disguise…” The man’s visage wavered, and in his place stood a teenage boy with the same two-colored eyes and black hair, and mere stubble for a beard. “See? This is technically the ‘real’ me. But it’s harder to be taken seriously as an adult without illusions.” The ‘adult’ appearance returned, and somehow felt more genuine to Wheatley even though it had just been revealed to be a lie. “Doug Rattman. You can call me Doug.”

“Doug, then…Wheatley Johnson. Illusions then, eh? Awfully useful, could use it to cut classes…if I were the sort so inclined,” Wheatley added quickly. “So you saved me, then? Why so scarce? Were you out and just…left me here with a pizza?”

Doug nodded, digging his hands into the pockets of his white coat. Wheatley thought he saw a twitch in the hands, but it was hard to detect. “It’s nothing personal, but we had to keep an eye on you in case you relapsed.”

“…Relapsed?”

“Mm. Your Gem. It was almost completely corrupted, navy blue in its brightest spots. We had to saturate a Grief Seed just to purify it. Thankfully my assistant had a spare…” The level way Doug explained it just made the idea more horrifying.

“…What?” Wheatley pulled the blanket up around him again, feeling quite small despite being about as tall as Doug. “What do you mean, almost all the way gone? But I’d been hunting Witches! I’d been doing everything right. I was doing so well…!”

Doug looked at Wheatley for a moment, and then just shook his head. “How were you feeling last night?”

“Oh, fine-“ Wheatley said as an automatic response, until he realized this was the ‘how are you feeling’ question one got from a physician, not an acquaintance. “…Not so well, to tell the truth. Things have not been going sunny in my life. But everyone has bad nights, yeah? I probably should have just gone home, but the phone…well, I wasn’t thinking straight for some reason. Does…does your mind go when your Gem’s bleak?”

“Sometimes. And it darkens much more quickly with despair and negativity. The only reason why you slept is because my assistant injected you with something to calm you down, just in case. That’s why we hesitated and watched how you’d react when waking 

“Aaand I turned into a Witch and you had to kill me, got it.” The heaviness of the situation should have horrified him, but the numbness seemed to extent to Wheatley’s mind. Perhaps he was still working through the sedative. “So you knocked me out, apparently got me cleaned up and in warm clothes and let me sleep here. Well, better than being a Witch. But…” Something bubbled up from within him and his vision clouded with tears. “But I don’t understand. I was just having a bad night! Everyone has those sometimes. Everyone feels like giving up sometimes, yeah? I’m not alone in that, am I? So you mean even something like that can cause…you know?”

Doug was silent for a few moments before nodding, sitting in a wooden chair next to the cot. “Despair builds up over time, but it can come out of nowhere too. Kyubey’s exploiting the mercurial nature of human emotion. Some of us survive longer by being more controlled, or jaded. Those who are more prone to emotional outbursts…”

“Like me. I know what I am.” Wheatley wiped the tears away and pulled his knees up under his chin. “Basically what you’re saying is you kept me from Witching out this time, but it’s really a matter of time.”

“Happens to all of us sooner or later, if we don’t die.” The matter-of-fact tone in Doug’s voice was tinged with sadness, which just made it worse.

“Well, don’t dance around the issue! Sooner or later, but sooner for me, right? One hard test or yet another missed time with Uncle and bam, I’m a goner. I’ve seen those things, not looking forward to being one.” He took a deep breath and bit his lip for a moment. “And there’s no way out of it.”

“…Well.”

“And there’s no way out of it. Right?” Wheatley turned to stare at Doug. “You said ‘well.’ ‘Well’ usually indicates you’ve got a counterpoint, yeah? You know a way out of it?”

“…No.”

“Well then don’t get my bloody hopes up.” Wheatley scowled, before realizing he was being a brat to someone who had saved his life. “Uh, thank you for that, I mean. The Grief Seed and the shelter and the fish pizza. Sorry, I’m trying to remember it’s not just me.”

“There is a way,” Doug finally said in a distant tone, “but I don’t know it.”

That earned another stare. “What do you mean? How do you know there’s a way out if you don’t know it? If you’re in a big room with no doors, you can’t assume there’s a door just because it’s a room.” And yet, the possibility of hope already sent Wheatley’s heart beating faster. “Okay, what’s the way out you don’t know?”

Doug stood, looking out the window at the street below. “I saw your school ID and called out for you. I guess I sound like your uncle? But you needed rest.”

“Uh, thanks. No, to be honest you don’t sound like him at all. But I guess they hear from him so little that-stop changing the subject, mate!” Wheatley threw the blanket right off, marched to the window and tugged at Doug’s arm to get his attention. “Are you being cryptic on purpose?”

“Yes. It’s sort of an oracle thing.”

“Bloody…” Wheatley rubbed his temples. “You’re just making fun of me. Go on, what’s the solution you think might exist?”

“…Before I tell you, are you willing to work towards it?”

“Yes! Yes, I’d do anything if I thought it could get me out of this. Could get us out of this! It’s bloody unfair, so I don’t exactly feel bad about cheating this kind of system.” Wheatley realized he’d been scratching the back of his hand again, and stopped himself. “Got to stop that, bad habit. Funny how it doesn’t hurt…”

Doug paused to look over Wheatley in a way that made the boy a little nervous, and then rushed towards a painting covered by a curtain. He flung it over, revealing the pastel image of a winged girl with endlessly long pink hair, her arms wrapped protectively around a black-haired girl in violet and gray.

“…That’s quite lovely,” Wheatley said after a moment. “Quite honestly it is. But I’m not sure what the relevancy is.”

“That is the two faces of God.”

“…Oh.” It occurred to Wheatley that Doug might actually just be insane. Of course, if he was insane it was best to humor him while in the man’s house eating his pizza. He’d grabbed a slice along the way, and stuffed some of it in his mouth. “Whahss thuh got t’do wif-“

“That is the vision I had of the Goddess Wreathed in Time, the only one who can save us.”

Wheatley swallowed. “Oh. Wouldn’t exactly be kosher at my school, but I wasn’t lying about being agnostic or anything.” He still wasn’t entirely sure he believed Doug, though there was something majestic about the winged woman. “Well, anytime she wants to start would be grand…”

“She can’t. She’s gone from this world. The Goddess will never be born here, and her apostle has left us forever.”

Something about Doug’s solemn, reverent tone felt so sincere it left Wheatley feeling an ominous chill. “…She’s gone? What do you mean, she’s gone?”

“I didn’t realize it at first. I’m an oracle, which means I can see into the future.” Doug started pacing in a circle. “But it isn’t so clear as that. I can’t choose what I see, the visions just come to me. And they’re all potentials based on the possible outcome of events. Sometimes I see into futures that cannot be, glimpses through space-time to other timelines. Do you follow me, Wheatley?”

“…Yes,” Wheatley lied, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, the goddess lady…”

“Was a possible future I saw once. Only once. In many others I dreamed of a cataclysm consuming the world, but once I saw her, the one with enough power to turn despair into hope. Then after April, I stopped dreaming of her altogether. It’s a good thing I drew her when I did, because otherwise I wouldn’t be able to remember what she looked like.” Doug’s gaze turned towards the pastel again. “That means all hope for us is gone here. But it could have existed once. If we could find a way to reach across to the reality I’ve foreseen, if we could find it…it’d be a dangerous risk, but if someone could…”

“Go to other dimensions? Is…am I following?” Wheatley wasn’t sure he was. He still wasn’t entirely sure this wasn’t purgatory. Would explain the choice of anchovies. “You think there’s something unreachable, but if we could reach it-her, really, she’d save us from the Incubators? Am I following, mate?”

“That’s it more or less.” Doug smiled back at Wheatley sadly. “I don’t know anyone who can do that. But my assistant and I have been researching for a long time. We’d have more time if we didn’t have to hunt…”

Researching. Hunting. Of course, that was what the White Queen claimed, wasn’t it? She made her flunkies do all the Witch hunting and gather Grief Seeds for her so she herself could ‘research.’ But it hadn’t led to much, had it?

“I can help!”

Doug paused to stare at Wheatley. “…The research is rather dangerous, but…”

“Yes yes, you want to say ‘but honestly mate you’re kind of a dolt.’ I’d be more offended but frankly I’m too mature for that.” Wheatley crossed his arms and waved a hand. “What I mean is, I can do the hunting for you and bring you Grief Seeds! You and, uh, your apparently shy assistant. That way you can devote yourself to doing magic-science or whatever and finding that goddess! You said she’s the only hope, right? Then that makes you the only hope. And if you need me to hunt, then…if I follow, that makes me the only hope too.” Pride swelled in his chest at the very thought, even if he realized the last part was stretching a bit.

Doug covered his mouth and chuckled. “It is easier for me to stay in control of…things when my Gem’s clear. I admit I appreciate the offer of help. Don’t you have to hunt for yourself or any partners, though?”

“Oh…that is true.” Wheatley thought of Chell, who would look so happy if he could just hunt a Witch for her, or Craig who clearly had other things to worry about than Witches. He recalled his own Gem that night. It had looked dark, hadn’t it? And the feeling of nearly disappearing had been awful, yet so tempting…

“Well, I don’t need sleep, right?” Wheatley snapped. “I’ll do it at night! My uncle won’t notice I’m out.”

Doug blinked. “But school…”

“I don’t  _care_. It’s been very tempting to drop out to be honest, if it wouldn’t get me in a lot of trouble. I mean, I doubt Uncle would appreciate the wasted tuition. It’s not that expensive, but my parents wanted their savings to go to…anyway.” Wheatley exhaled. “Okay, I promise to keep up with my studies and maintain a C average if you’ll let me help with this. It’s just, this is what I needed! My friends need me to keep them from falling into despair, and this, this is what I need! I need some hope and way out even if it’s really distant. I have to know I’m not doomed. And you’re not doomed if there’s a tiny percentage of a chance, yeah?” He stared up at Doug, desperation in his eyes.

Doug was silent for a moment, gaze distant, and for a second Wheatley wondered if the man was actually having a vision of some kind himself. He snapped out of it quickly, though, ruffling Wheatley’s hair. “Make it a B average, and we have a deal. Oh, and please don’t tell anyone about this.” He paused for emphasis. “Anyone. Understand, if it gets out and the Queen finds out…” His hands started shaking again. Poor fellow, Wheatley thought, he must have had bad experiences with Glados too.

“Agreed.” Wheatley blurted it before realizing that meant keeping his secret from  _Chell_. But she would have understood, wouldn’t she? Besides, she was one of the ones likely to survive, in control of her emotions. As long as she had him to feel sorry for. What did she know about real desperation? Had she ever almost turned into a Witch on a rainy night, alone?

No, it was people like Alice who went, people like him. She meant no harm, she just wouldn’t understand. He’d tell her when the time was right and Doug agreed to it, of course, and wouldn’t she be proud? Knowing he had a hand in saving everyone? Him, little Wheatley…they’d be very happy themselves, Chell and Craig. He’d save them all. Indirectly. Chell might not love him for it, but it’d feel so wonderful to do something for someone he loved.

That was love, wasn’t it? The desire to do something for another so they’d love you. What else could it be?

“You should get some more sleep,” Doug insisted. “Or at least rest here as long as you need it. Your face is a little red. I’ll call you a cab when you’re ready, just knock on the door. I’m going to be conducting further research. It’s dangerous in there, so please don’t enter without knocking.” Doug turned to walk away, while Wheatley stared at that painting again. A goddess of some sort, sealed from them in another time and space…

“…Mate? Did you say you needed the ability to traverse space? As in other realities?”

Doug stopped. “Yes…?”

It was familiar, and yet Wheatley couldn’t remember the context at all. It must have been part of a dream, and like most dreams, devoid of context. “Nothing, nevermind, just making sure I had it right.”

Doug said nothing else as he left, a shaking hand running through his messy hair. Wheatley found himself wondering why, if a fellow could make himself look however he wanted with illusions, he’d look like such a mess. Not a bad-looking guy, but what a mess.

“Time and space…space-crossing…timeline-crossing…well, I’ll remember it eventually…” In the meantime he reached instinctively for his pockets, only to remember he didn’t have them at the moment and had also smashed up his own cell phone.

“Oh, bollocks.”

* * *

“God dammit! He said he’d leave his cell on!” Chell fumed as she attempted to text Wheatley again, with no response. She could throttle him. Had he really just forgotten to charge it? It seemed like a likely possibility. She’d alerted Craig before realizing she was probably only adding to his stress, but she wanted to make sure they at least knew what had happened if she didn’t come back.

She sat outside of the steps of school, staring again at the message Glados had sent her.

_Birds of a disloyal feather really do flock together._   _If you want to save the traitor or defeat her Witch, meet me alone. I want to talk._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oriko and Kirika are from one of the spinoff manga, Puella Magi Oriko Magica. Yes, I decided she's the equivalent to the Oracle Turret in this universe.


	15. "Everything will be fine."

Craig would have had a perfect attendance record if his mother hadn’t been so vigilant about illnesses. Perhaps because of Kevin’s heart condition, Mrs. Wilson wanted to make sure her other son stayed in good health and would keep a sharp eye out for phlegmy coughs, hoarse throats or sneezes. He found sick days incredibly boring, marked by foul-tasting medicine and itchy pajamas. If there was one positive side effect to his current position as a magically-animated lich, it was that he probably didn’t get sick.

So Wheatley’s empty seat in homeroom left him nervous. Wondering if his fellow magical boy was just late for school again, he kept an eye out in the other classes they shared to no avail. Wheatley was practically a giant by the standard of eighth graders and should have been easy to spot.  _Did he skip school? Doesn’t he want to improve his attendance record?!_

The Wilsons had saved up good money so Craig could attend St. Aperture’s! It wasn’t a very expensive school, but it still had tuition. And from what he’d gathered, Wheatley’s family didn’t have much money either. As he left the schoolyard, Craig went over just what kind of lecture he’d give Wheatley the next day about cutting classes and the value of education when he realized Wheatley was standing right there across the street from the school gates, waving at him like an idiot.

That somehow made it worse. Craig stomped across the street and pointed a finger up at Wheatley. “You cut school today! I know you weren’t sick because we don’t get sick.”

Wheatley turned red and looked away, frowning. “I did not! I genuinely did have some…trouble last night. Was in no condition to go to school, so I got called out sick. And I don’t take that many sick days!”

Craig was prepared to point out a lie, but his Soul Gem did nothing. That meant Wheatley was telling the truth. “…Wait, trouble? What happened?”

“Uh, nothing huge! No big deal. I’m fine now, fine now. Actually doing a lot better! I think the rest did me good. Nothing like rest and a bit of time away from stressful environments to mend you up.”  Wheatley wasn’t lying about that bit, either. And his smile seemed genuine enough, but there was something a little…off about it. Something in his eyes didn’t match the rest of him. “I’d really rather not talk about it. But honestly, everything’s going to be fine.”

Craig examined him for signs of physical stress, but he looked fine. “If you’re sure…”

“No, really! Perfectly fine, mate! I mean I know you’ve got a lot going on, and I just wanted to let you know I am one less thing you do need to worry about and…well, everything’s going to be fine.”

“I’m not entirely sure. So far we don’t have an end in sight…”

“No, just trust me on this one mate!” Wheatley shook his head and beamed down at Craig. “It’s gonna work out. Can’t go around with a cynical, defeatist attitude for too long, can we? It’s not good for us. Not good for anyone, but especially us.”

Oh, of course. This was Wheatley attempting to offer cheer and optimism even in the face of increasing pressure. That was what he did, and just because Craig couldn’t quite match that attitude didn’t meant it was of no use. Craig managed a smile. “Uh, thanks. Thanks, man. I…” He squinted as he thought he saw someone watching around a corner, just past Wheatley. “…Wait a minute. Kevin?”

Kevin disappeared again, and Craig sighed. “He’s supposed to be at home. He doesn’t go back to school until the new year. What if he slips on some ice or something?” Of course, the Wilsons lived but a block away from the school. Logically Craig knew there was nothing wrong with Kevin wanting to take a walk in broad daylight. But there were Incubators lurking about!

“Uh, well. I better track him down.” Craig adjusted his scarf. “Say, I tried to message both you and Chell at lunch and couldn’t reach you. At least tell me if you’re not gonna be in so I don’t worry about things.”

“Oh, that.” Wheatley turned red, suddenly visibly uncomfortable. “Something happened to my phone. But I’ll try to keep in contact anyway! Got e-mail, all that. Um, I had better get back home. Am basically ‘sick,’ after all. We’re still on for dinner this week, right? Right. Seeya mate! Do keep me posted on Kevin, alright? And if you hear from Chell…” He took off practically sprinting before Craig could question it again.

Kevin re-emerged moments later. “Is that your boyfriend?”

Craig froze. “What? Why would I have a-”

“Duuuh, we all know. Is he? Is that why you’re actin’ weird?” Kevin shifted back and forth, looking more mischievous than anything else.

Feeling blood rush to his cheeks, Craig shook his head and made a face at the suggestion. “Him? No! No, never.” Wheatley was a good friend but would make a terrible boyfriend. He was completely unreliable, and probably liked cheap dates.   _Best of luck to Chell there_ , he thought. “And fact: I am not acting weird. Get back home. There’s a cold going around.”

He couldn’t help but feel a little warmed up inside by that ‘we all know.’

That seemed to settle Kevin for a moment, the boy sighing and fussing with his jacket. “Why don’t you tell me things anymore?”

“…Huh? I tell you things.” Guilt immediately started tying knots in Craig’s stomach over that lie. But it was a good lie! For a good reason! “I talk about school and Student Council. That’s all there is. I don’t exactly have an interesting life.” There went another fine sailor’s knot in his guts.

“Mmm.” Kevin looked away and wiped his glasses on his sleeve as he walked back towards their home. “Whatever. You’re a liar now.” He said nothing else, uncharacteristically quiet in order to torment Craig with the silence.

* * *

_Why am I playing by her rules? It’s a trap. It’s obviously a trap. It’s like she sent me a card telling me she’d throw me a party with cake. I should have shown up with Craig and Wheatley. I should have rounded up everyone I can find who’s tired of her nonsense and just overwhelmed her._

Perhaps Chell should have done just that, but she’d shown up alone. She’d transformed ahead of time, of course, not at all anticipating as much as a simple conversation. The location Glados had sent her to was an abandoned building, one of several in the rather run-down industrial district. She’d used one of her portals to slip past a chain-link fence and felt rather foolish, standing near an unstable old structure in an orange and white dress. Glados had yet to show her face. It was just Chell. Just her and a Labyrinth gate on the wall.

_I don’t believe this._ Was that Glados’s plan? Engage her inside of a Labyrinth? Was that the only trick she knew anymore? She’d already sent Alex and Penelope after her friends while Chell was distracted. The fact that Glados was willing to use Witches as tools while knowing what they were was disgusting, but not unexpected. Glados saw living people as tools. Why should she care for monstrous ghosts?

“…Dammit.” There was nothing to do but dash into the Labyrinth. As usual, Chell ran headlong into a trap as if cake was really awaiting her. She owed it to Rita, at least. If Rita was in trouble it had to be because of the tip the green magical girl had given them yesterday. Fine, so Glados wanted to ‘talk’ alongside a Witch. So be it.

As soon as she entered the Labyrinth, the sky crackled and thunder shook the very ground at her feet. The Labyrinth was a jungle made of plastic trees and enormous toys, some of them held together with visible dried glue. It looked like an elaborate playset, illuminated by the glow of electric torches and the rainless thunderstorm in the sky.

“Glados?” Much as Chell would have loved to give Glados the silent treatment, the invitation did include the word ‘talk.’ “Don’t hide. I will find you.” She held her gun close to her chest, narrowing her eyes and firing blasts of light magic to melt a toy soldier Familiar into burnt plastic and then nothingness. She was surrounded by bright, vivid green. Even the lightning above her was light green, almost like…

_Oh God._

“What did you do?!” Chell opened a portal and dove right through it, emerging out of another on top of a tree so she could get a better view. There was Glados, sitting atop a small Lego pyramid. There was no Witch in sight yet, but the doors on the pyramid suggested the Witch’s chamber was below. Chell ignored the doors and dove for Glados, firing her gun straight at the magical girl ‘queen’ who deflected it all with a shield of shadows.

“I didn’t do anything. Why do you always assume I do things just to antagonize you? I have a lot to worry about. I am a responsible leader, after all.” Glados had no problem with summoning that staff of hers and sending shadow tendrils to snap at Chell with sharp smoky jaws. Chell took another long leap and opened a single portal to swallow up the ‘heads’ of the shadows. 

“It’s possible to force someone to change, you know. Don’t get me wrong. It isn’t pretty stuff. I don’t like doing it. But some people are of more use as Witches to keep stronger Magi alive. It’s consume or be consumed. Rita’s really one of the better ones, though. I hate when people force my hand.” Shadows bloomed around Glados as the pyramid rumbled beneath her. “The Witch knows we’re here and is hungry. But let’s talk for a bit first. Just you and me. We never talk anymore.”

Chell caught her breath, tears stinging her eyes. She was going to save Rita! They were so close to getting her back! She’d almost gotten through to her old partner! She answered Glados with cold silence, raising the gun again.

“Oh, I see you have nothing to say to me. As usual. Fine enough. I have a lot to say to you. Do you know why I haven’t killed you?” Glados formed a little table in front of her with her shadows and seemed to be leaning on it, cupping her chin in one hand. “Aren’t you curious? You do have a sense of intellectual curiosity somewhere in there.”

The gun didn’t move. Chell moved the sight around, but couldn’t quite lock on to Glados’s white Soul Gem on her forehead. Glados looked at the gun unconcerned, and continued.

“Or you’re just violent. That’s fine too. Look, I’ll be honest. The reason I haven’t killed you? It’s not just because killing you is hard. And believe me, I did try early on. I don’t know how you of all people were granted spatial magic, except that Kyubey has a strange sense of humor.” Tendrils of shadow swirled around Glados like octopus tentacles. In her white dress and gold jewelry, she somehow looked like a Witch herself. “But I could figure that out if I really wanted to. I’ve spent lifetimes finding out how to get what I want out of this ridiculous Contract.”

“No,” the White Queen continued, “you’re alive because I need you to live. I mean it would terribly mess up my plan if you wanted to break your Gem. It’d break Kyubey’s plan, too. He only gets the energy he needs from us if we go Witch. People who die otherwise are a lost investment. So if you wanted to go get yourself eaten by Rita’s Witch as penance, there’s really nothing I could do about it. It’d set my plan back a long time. Your friends wouldn’t get killed because of you, so there’s a bonus.” One of the tendrils combed a bit of white hair from Glados’s face.

Of course there was a plan. There was always a plan. But what plan? What could Glados possibly want with her? For all her talk of ‘science’ and experimentation, Glados was just obsessed with keeping herself alive.

“Look. One of us is going to become a really nasty Witch. Possibly both of us. We’re destined to have this kind of conflict. Imagine if things were different…! We could hate each other in entirely new ways. But regardless of what you think of me, I really do like this city. My Magi protect it. We always will. And speaking as someone who has seen a terrible Witch, there are two things I can do about it. I can make sure the strongest Magi survive and grow stronger to be ready when it inevitably comes, and I can undercut it to make sure it doesn’t happen in the first place. There’s nothing you can do about it. You have a tiny Court full of weaklings, one of whom almost-well, I’ll let him tell you that.”

Chell felt dizzy just watching Glados in that hot, sticky Labyrinth. She kept reminding herself of Glados’s nature as a liar and a manipulator who told people what they didn’t need to hear. Glados wanted her to go Witch. That’s why she drove Rita to this point. “I’m never becoming…” Her hands were shaking as she held the gun. They were so close, so close to saving Rita…!

“And neither am I. But I take it from how the color drained from your face that I hit a nerve. What, are you afraid I might be telling the truth? That I might be right about something? You’re an upstart and I’ve been doing this for a very long time. It’s a dead body. It doesn’t age unless I want it to. I’ve figured out how to keep going on forever and that’s exactly what I intend to do. That means the one most likely to become a nasty Witch is you, isn’t it? And yet, I need you to live! Can’t even tell you why, it would totally ruin the surprise. Unless you figure it out for yourself, Little Queen.”

The lightning crackled through the sky, setting one of the plastic toy trees afire. The pyramid rumbled as the Witch demanded release, and Glados jumped right off of it onto a nearby treetop. There was an odd light coming out of it, the doors vibrating and flashing in an uneven pattern. And that’s when something finally hit Chell.

The Witch hadn’t drawn them through the doors. It was distracted with something else.

“…This isn’t Rita’s Labyrinth.”

Glados stopped and stared at Chell. “What? Of course it is. She’s your friend. Former friend. Now I understand why. You can’t even recognize her Labyrinth! All she ever wanted was to be an adventurer like Indiana Jones and now she’s doing that in there. She’s a Witch living her dream and you can’t even let her have that. No wonder she hated you.”

“No, it’s not her Labyrinth and that isn’t want she wanted.” Chell had found her voice again, and her breath was evening out. “She wanted to be a hero. That’s what she talked about! She loved adventure but more than that, she loved the idea of being a hero. She’d be a warrior fighting a monster or saving a princess or something. And besides…”

Chell aimed her gun and fired at the doors of the pyramid blowing them open. “She’s busy.”

* * *

The Witch drew Chell forth immediately through layers of legos and clear plastic toys into the inside of the pyramid, which was much larger than the exterior. Inside a Witch resembling a plastic snake toy rattled and snapped, its eyes sewn-on buttons and its back adorned with fake butterfly wings. And running along the inside walls of the chamber was something moving almost too fast to be seen, a green blur.

“That’s right, jackass! I almost got ya this time! You can’t catch me, can you? What’s the matter? Getting tired? Can’t handle the Adventure Girl, they never can…!”

Rita’s voice sounded pained and hoarse, but it was unmistakably her. Chell would know that swagger anywhere. When the green Magi briefly came to a stop  long enough to strike at the Witch with her electrically-charged chain whip, Chell could see blood soaking her clothes and running down her hair. But it was her, and her Soul Gem was intact.

Glados had tried to trick her into thinking she’d failed badly enough to possibly go Witch. But why?

A portal opened up behind the Witch and Chell leaped through it, firing explosive light blasts at the Witch’s midsection. It whipped around to snap at her, its head at least as big as Chell herself; Chell timed her jump and used the creature’s snout as a springboard, backflipping into another portal to land on top of the Witch’s back.

“What? What the heck are you…oh, this is just embarrassing. Havin’ to wait around for you to save me…” Rita frowned but didn’t dwell on it, breaking out into another high-speed run. “Hey snakey! You better explode when you die. I think a fight like this merits an explosion. Then I can walk away from the explosion. You don’t betray Rita Park and not have it end in somethin’ blowing up! God damn selfish brat…”

“I thought you…” Chell’s voice failed her again, and she started running up the Witch’s back to try firing at the back of the neck. It seemed to take that poorly, writhing and throwing Chell at the wall. Instead Chell found herself caught by the green blur, briefly moving so fast it churned her stomach before Rita set her down.

“What? Me? Yeah, that’s what Glados was probably hoping for. Believe me, she tried! Sometimes she keeps a spare Grief Seed or two from Kyubey so she can whip it out against people. She made me fight two without refreshing and tried to kick my ass in between. But look! Still kicking! Still alive! You hear me, Queenie?!” Laughing in a way that sounded more unhinged than triumphant, Rita launched into one last high speed jump as she surrounded her whole body with green lightning, smashing right into the Witch as it collapsed into broken plastic and melted into a Grief Seed.

Rita lost her footing immediately afterwards, her transformation reverting as she landed on her knees. She hadn’t healed herself yet and wasn’t even pulling out her Soul Gem. She laughed, again hoarse and raspy. “Check…check that out. Better than I used to be, right? Say this for the Court assholes, they have some great training. Where’s Glados? I wanna flip her off. If I can’t walk away from an explosion and do it I want to at least…eh, she’s gone. Of course she’s gone. Well, can’t say it was a bad way to go out. Three Witches in a row and I went out sticking to my principles in the end! Real hero’s death, just like…”

Chell pushed right past Rita and grabbed the Grief Seed, shoving it into Rita’s hands.

“Oh, come on. Alright. I did give you that whole ‘just live’ rant. Sure, crawling back to your ass with my tail behind my legs is much better.” Rita mumbled as she purified her Gem. It had nearly been completely black from exhaustion alone, and the Grief Seed was saturated within seconds. The wounds on Rita’s body started to close with the help of green magic, but she still wasn’t getting up.

“…Might have overdone it. But I couldn’t let Glados have the satisfaction. You know how it is.”

“…Yeah, I do.” Chell leaned down and let Rita brace herself on her shoulder. As Chell was a few inches taller, it wasn’t hard. “I thought you were…”

“She wanted you to think that, like I said. I’m sure initially she planned to torment me into Witchville so she could make you finish me off. She won’t just kill you. It’s like she plays with her food or something.” Rita coughed, still visibly pale, but there was a triumphant grin on her face. “But funny thing about me, I’ve been around the block. I’m not some new Magi she can just intimidate into misery. I’ve been through Hell and survived. Comes with bein’ the Adventure Girl. I…think I might throw up. I’ll warn you if I have to puke so I don’t mess up your shoes.”

Chell just nodded and opened one more portal, taking them back to the other side of the fence and onto the sidewalk before she let her own transformation revert. She said nothing as she walked Rita along, offering the girl a drink of water from the bottle in Chell’s knapsack. Rita splashed it over her face and gave Chell an odd look.

“I don’t get it. I’ve been a jackass to you. I mean it wasn’t even your fault, not totally. I just wanted to pretend what happened to Caroline was all on you so I didn’t have to think about how I added to it.”

“…How did you add to it? It was my fault. I wasn’t there when she needed me.”

“Neither was I. You know she became a Witch, right? I figured it out after what happened to poor Alice. Whatever was happening to Caroline, she was suffering. Messing herself up. You didn’t see it because you were too caught up in your hero complex and I was having too much fun with the fight. But you know what? Hero complexes aren’t so bad. I sorta lost track of mine working for you-know-who.”

“But you still wanted to…?”  
“Be a hero, yeah.” Rita scratched her head with her free hand. “Kept figuring out how to justify it to myself. See, I didn’t want to leave cuz I had nowhere else to go. No offense, but you can’t exactly find me a home.”

That was a problem. Chell bit her lip. “I’ll tell Mom you’re sleeping over. After that…we’ll figure it out. Mom will understand if you’re having trouble.” She remembered aunts and cousins spending days and weeks at their apartment when things had gone sour. They were family, of course, and family would never be refused. What would her mother say to a friend with nowhere to go?

“After she sacrificed Alice I tried to tell myself Alice would have gone anyway. She really was kind of nuts. But you don’t watch your boss sacrifice your friend for ‘science’ and not start to hate yourself for it. So when I saw she was trying to recruit that kid, that was too much. Figured I could talk some sense into her.” Rita laughed again, this time tinged with bitterness. “When has the queen ever listened to anyone? Except you.”

Chell shook her head. “Not me. She just hates me.”  
“Are you kidding? She despises you and yet she pays you all this extra attention. I’d say it was some kinda hatecrush, except if she was at all into girls she would have gone for me. Let’s be honest here. No one on Earth can resist Rita.” Rita coughed before continuing. “She goes out of her way to mess with you. I didn’t get that kinda treatment, I tell you what! Just got poisoned and woke up in a Labyrinth full of Glados’s magic toxin stuff. Don’t know why she didn’t just break my gem but I guess that would have been too painless for her. She wanted to see me scared. Joke’s on her! She didn’t know me that well.”

“…She does seem to have some fixation on me.” Chell remembered Glados’s ominous rant in the Labyrinth and wondered if Rita had overheard it, but didn’t want to ask.

“Glados paid attention to you, Caroline thought you were special…I was jealous. I’d been through more, I thought. Was the veteran there and figured I deserved a bit of importance. But jealousy’s kind of exhausting. Besides, I can’t lie to myself anymore. I’m Rita the Adventure Girl! I’m meant to be a dumbass hero like you. So where’s the next Witch? I’m on a roll here, I’ve been refreshed and everything and now I’ve gone and given myself a moral pep talk!-Ow.” Rita had tried to stand up straight in some sort of heroic pose, and was doubled over in pain the next minute. “Okay, in a minute. Then we find the next Witch.”

Chell helped her back up, shaking her head. “You need rest.”

“Rest? I can rest when I’m a Witch! Won’t even rest then. Like I’d be some weenie snake Witch. You’ll know it’s me because I’ll be made of explosions. With my own theme song…” With one last raspy laugh, Rita looked over at Chell again. “…Uh, thanks for all this. I mean, would have been fine by myself. Just saying. But you coming back after all this time is, uh, it’s really something. I see why they think you’re special now.”

“I’m not, really…” Chell led Rita up to the steps of her apartment building, punching in a door code. One thing bothered her. Glados didn’t like anyone leaving her court. Chell had always assumed that was at the root of the Queen’s grudge against Chell herself, though the talk in the Labyrinth threw doubts into her mind. She was thrilled to have Rita back, the return of an old friend one of the first real triumphs she’d experienced in a long time.

But why had Glados let her go?

* * *

“I don’t know why you’re so upset. Rita’s just a particularly good survivor. You’ll find another magical girl as strong as her, or stronger.”

Kyubey wasn’t trying to be comforting. He was probably just trying to understand Glados.  She knew that and yet couldn’t help but answer him as she buried herself in the comforter, burrowing in the hotel bed like a groundhog. She’d informed her Court they were not to speak to her and were to spend time in the other rooms unless there was an emergency.

She wasn’t crying. Glados was no longer capable of crying. But she was shaking, staring at her own Grief Seed as it glowed through the blankets.

“I don’t understand it. She wouldn’t change her mind. I tortured her, I threw Witches at her and waited for her to die. I denied her Grief Seeds and she still wouldn’t change her mind. She still wanted out. I healed her with Alice’s Grief Seed. I let her live in the Court and gave her the world, and all she had to do was trust me.”

Glados knew Kyubey didn’t care. It’s why she felt comfortable talking to him at her lowest moments. Kyubey wouldn’t offer her mercy. She’d rather die than be an object of pity.

“It seems Chell is subverting your Court. You really should kill her.”

“There’ll be no one strong enough if I do. Doug won’t do. He’s too far gone. As I suspected, she’s too strong to go Witch even facing her own former friend and too sharp to be fooled by a trick. She’s the strongest one. I have tested her every way I know how. If she died, all my efforts would be in vain.”

“And you’d become a Witch,” Kyubey piped up seconds before shadows swallowed him and crushed him. The next Kyubey appeared in the window, the creature used to this treatment from the Queen by now.

“Why haven’t you contracted the little boy yet? I need a new oracle and I need that investigator to break into pieces. If Chell is going to be the strongest one, I’m going to make it very hard for her. Serves her right.”

She held up her Soul Gem, the white swirling with streaks of grey. “That monster will take everything from me.”

* * *

“Look, it’s nothing personal. It’s just that you’re not really a Magi anymore, and I kind of need to get Grief Seeds for someone. Just a few Witches a night, not so hard. I mean it’s me or you, luv. And you’re already dead. Someday someone will do the same to me.”

Wheatley felt like he should at least talk to the Witch as it thrashed about, breaking free of the crystals growing around its midsection. It resembled a candy-doll wearing a giant cupcake, particularly well-made with pink sugar; while food-shaped Witches usually left him feeling a little nauseous, this one actually made him hungry. It also flung explosive rock candy at him, throwing him back and leaving blood trickling down his face. It barely hurt at all, but the blood meant he’d probably taken a hard blow anyway. His brain just hadn’t caught up yet.

“Naturally! I know you’d object. Usually don’t do this alone, to be honest. Don’t have a good track record fighting alone. But this is sort of for a secret project for my friends. Secret FROM them but it’s FOR them so it’s alright! Gonna save everyone, but it’s up to me.” He forced himself back up, breathing heavily. How could he help Doug’s research if he couldn’t even take down one Witch by himself? Bloody defensive magic was fine with a partner but it was useless on its own.

He could always retreat. It wasn’t too late to tell Chell about the plan and recruit her help. But Doug had wanted to keep it a secret, hadn’t he? What right did Wheatley have to agree to that and then immediately blab to his friends? Doug would think he was a liar and someone unreliable.

“Any Magi should be able to fight a Witch on their own. We’ve got to be equipped for it. How else can we survive? I mean we have to have THAT level of fairness. Right?” His cheer was slipping away, frustrating taking hold with no one but a candy Witch to see it. “I mean what good is it? How can you be a hero if having so much as one bloody bad day is enough to kill you and turn you into…well, you?! How is that fair, mate?! I should be dead right now! And one day I’m going to have another bad day and it’s going to happen. Bam. Witch. Never even got to ask Chell on a date. Never got to apologize to Craig. Never made any more friends and Uncle will never know what happened.”

He wasn’t quite aware of what he was doing, magic having this habit of moving on autopilot. Crystals were creeping up around the Witch faster than they did when he was merely trapping and slowing down an enemy. It was screeching in anger and pain as it found its lower section covered in sharp blue crystals.

“Well, that’s just not fair! So I’m tired of playing by his rules. Doug’s going to find a bloody goddess and she’s going to fix everything. Who cares if it’s crazy? This is crazy! This is all crazy. So just you wait because I’m sure the goddess will save you too. Someday. After you’re a Grief Seed. It’s only fair.”

The crystal grew around the Witch, piercing into it from within. It seemed to bleed liquid sugar, its icing expression changing from a perpetual grin to an anguished frown as even its head was encased solid.

“I’m going to help save the world. I’m going to help Chell and Doug at the same time and no one will ever think of me as useless again. No one will ever pity me again.” He held his hand out and clenched it into a fist.

“Everything will be fine!”

Deep cracks of light ran through the crystal as it collapsed into itself, the Witch squished into a mess of batter and sugar before it burst into nothingness. The Labyrinth fell around him and Wheatley slumped against the wall of a factory, picking up the Grief Seed with unsteady hands. It was awfully late, and he wanted more than anything else to go to bed. His own Gem could use a bit of a ‘touch-up.’ It had been darkening so fast lately.

“No, no, I did promise Doug. Can’t show up empty-handed. Sorry, you’re going to be donated to science or…whatever he does. Magic science. That sort of thing.” Wheatley forced himself back to his feet, dusting himself off. “Sure I can find another one tonight. It’s worth it! No more lazy Wheatley. No more depending on others.”

Everything was going to be fine.


	16. "You could understand everything!"

_“Are you sure it’s right? I know he offered, but you should know better than to accept. Having someone else hunt on your behalf is what the Queen does, too.”_

_“I think if I’d refused him, he wouldn’t have taken no for an answer. He was desperate. We’re working with hope, Cici! Hope keeps our Gems from clouding over. Hope saves our souls. I think he just wanted some of that.”_

_“But he hasn’t come back all the way. A wound untreated will fester. You know the ones who come that close to going, they never fully come back…”_

_“That’s not true. I almost went.”_

_“You were different when you came back, Doug. And he is a child.”_

_“A lot of people would claim I’m still a child.”_

_“He’ll burn out. He’s an obsessive and you gave him a reason to obsess.”_

_“I won’t let that happen. I’m not like the Queen who burns people out like candles and throws them away. Besides, we’re so close. I feel like he’ll lead us to the Goddess, or at the very least to the one who can reach her.”_

_“Is that a prophecy or a hunch?”_

_“…You know, I don’t know the difference anymore. I suppose you could wipe his memories of us if it goes poorly.”_  
 _“I can’t do that anymore, remember?”_

_“…Oh, right. But let’s at least let him try, the poor kid. He’s no more doomed than the rest of us.”_

* * *

“She’s asleep. After a lot of rambling about how she wasn’t tired at all…” Marie pulled the spare blanket over Rita, who was curled up on the couch. “You’re sure you don’t want me to call one of her parents? Relatives? They’ll want to know…”

Chell bit her lip and looked away. “There’s no one to call.”

“Oh. Oh, I see.” Wringing her hands, Marie walked around and gestured for Chell to sit down with her at the kitchen table. “Okay, look. I’m not mad or anything. And whatever’s going on, I promise I won’t get mad. But you’ve been out late, and your grades are slipping. And this is the first time I’ve seen one of your friends in almost a year, and you bring her back looking like she’s been through Hell.”

“She was in a fight,” Chell started, her stomach already tying itself in a knot. She knew where this conversation was going.

“I can believe that. I can believe anything you tell me if you’ll just tell me what’s going on!” Marie took Chell’s chin in her hand and turned the girl’s face to her own. “Look at me. Look me in the eye and tell me what’s going on. That’s the condition, alright? I’ll let Rita stay here until we can work something out because I know sometimes you end up with nowhere to go. These things happen. But in return, you have to be honest with me.”

Marie’s voice was shaking. She was angry. Of course she was angry, Chell thought. Who wouldn’t be? For all Marie knew, Chell was going through some creepy rebellion. Why didn’t Chell have a lie concocted for this situation? Why had she always put it off as something that would never happen?

She forced a little smile. “It’s really nothing. I’m sorry about school. I’ve just been kind of depressed. You know, with everything.”

“It’s not just that.” Marie stood up. She didn’t raise her voice or even change her expression. “I know it’s not just that. I thought at first maybe it was, you know? Maybe it was just you-know-who walking out on us right before Thanksgiving. But it’s been going on before that. Are you angry at me?”

“No! No, Mom.” Chell had to swallow to keep from crying, her resolve starting to break. “I could never be…just stop! Please stop asking.” She didn’t realize what she was saying until it came out, but once it did she couldn’t stop. She recoiled mentally from her own words, but they kept coming. “I can’t tell you everything. I can’t tell anyone about it. And it’s been going on for a long time..."

Marie had fallen silent as Chell stood up again, her heart pounding. Chell was aware there were tears stinging in her eyes, and took in a deep breath. "I tried to quit once. I wanted to go back to being your normal healthy daughter. But I can’t. The truth isn't something you want to know. Someday I'm not..."

“Chell…”

“I’m sorry!” Chell turned away, trying to steady her breathing. “I...alright. I'm alright." She attempted to summon her poker face again, and it slipped away as if washing off. "I'm just tired of lying..." She hadn't meant to whisper that, but out it came. 

Was she tired of lying? 

"Then don't." Marie took one of Chell's hands. "Just talk to me. Even if there's nothing I can do to help you, I can still be here for you. I'm still your mother."

And why did she have to lie? It was only going to get worse from here. Her mother was an adult; Kyubey only recruited young people.  The worst that happened was...well, it was something she couldn't imagine. She had no idea what would happen. But she trusted Marie, didn't she? If there was one person she trusted, it was Marie. 

"I'm sorry," she repeated, voice more level. "Just please watch carefully. And promise you'll believe everything you see." She started to channel power through her body.

"See? Honey-okay, I promise."  
  
Orange light flooded Chell's vision. "I hope you mean that, Mom..."

* * *

Rita had always been bad about pushing her own limits. It only became worse when she was informed about the nature of the Soul Gem. Rather than finding it frightening, she took a certain pride in knowing she could never truly break her own body. Caroline had once asked her if she was subconsciously punishing herself for how her wish turned out, which sounded like psychobabble nonsense to Rita. She just liked seeing what she was capable of doing.

Well, she now knew that she was capable of fighting multiple Witches and enduring the worst from Glados’s Court goons in succession. It just left her feeling like she’d been hit by a train.

“Gh…” She sat up, blearily recognizing Chell’s room. It was a cramped, messy thing with a small sewing machine surrounded by heaps of fabric in one corner and a small desk with an old-looking computer in another. She never liked to admit how jealous she was of Chell for having a room that was hers, no matter what, not contingent on pleasing any kind of Queen.

Ah, yes. That was right. Rita didn’t have the Court anymore. She’d quit. She didn’t have anywhere except, apparently, Chell’s apartment. And that had to be a temporary solution because who just lets people like Rita live in their house?

She groaned and pulled out her Gem, sneaking a little bit of magic to at least alleviate the pain in her joints. “Could totally take another Witch,” she muttered to herself as she slumped back onto the bed. “Could take ten. Just gonna rest first. Just resting to give ‘em a chance.”

Five minutes later, she forced herself back up. There was nothing more boring than trying to sleep. She wanted a cigarette, but smoking inside was sure to get her kicked out and she was out of them anyway. Odds are she’d have to quit because there was no way Chell “Goody Two Shoes” Vasques was going to procure her any smokes. Her mother didn’t even like cursing inside.

At least there’d be food. She remembered that about Chell’s house. Both of her parents were excellent cooks; she’d never had better bacon in her life. Maybe she could quit smoking and just get fat instead.

Being sure she was in her normal clothes, tattered jeans and a sweatshirt, she forced herself out of bed and opened the door. “Heey,” she said with a stretch, trying her best to sound casual. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. I know y’all were probably…” She trailed off, staring at what she saw in the kitchen.

Marie and Chell both had puffy eyes to suggest tears. The mother turned to Rita, beckoning her in with an unsteady hand. “Come in. Do you need something? I have leftover soup. Chicken soup. So are you one of these magical people, too?”

The crying didn’t really surprise Rita, though it made her feel a touch awkward and intrusive. What left her staring was Chell’s dress and Marie’s words.

“…Chell. What the heeeeeeeeck.” Rita was going to have to get used to living by house rules. “You can’t  _tell_  people about it.” 

“…It just sort of happened,” Chell muttered as Marie stood up to take a bowl out of the fridge and move it to the microwave.

“I don’t know why you didn’t tell me,” Marie said, her tone more warm than scolding. “You can’t keep something like that to yourself. Kids your age are always trying to do everything on your own. It isn’t healthy.”

“So.” Rita’s voice was flat. “So you know. Magic and stuff.”

“I saw it. I don’t really understand everything, but I saw it. And I’d know if my Chell was lying, because she is a terrible liar.” Marie’s hands were shaking, but she was still smiling as she placed a big bowl of chicken soup in front of Rita, who hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she smelled the hot broth. The smile seemed genuine, too.

Having spent enough time around Glados had trained Rita to tell a genuine smile from a faked one.

“Mom’s going to keep our secret.” Chell’s voice was still soft and understated, and she sounded tired. “I-I told her…”

“Everything?”

“Enough.” Chell sounded tired but she was smiling a little bit. Perhaps she’d finally cracked, Rita thought.

Marie sat down next to Chell, giving her a tight hug. “I still don’t understand everything. I just know you were suffering, both of you it seems, with a problem you don’t deserve. I want to take that burden from you because that’s what adults do-we shoulder the burden for our children. It shouldn’t be the other way around.” She wiped her eyes with a tissue; the box looked half-depleted. “I mean, you’re fighting aliens? Monsters?”

“Witches,” Rita said in between huge mouthfuls of soup.

“Monsters is close enough,” Chell added.

“But I can’t fight for you, can I? I don’t know why, but you’ve been chosen and I haven’t. I don’t know what kind of monster decides people your age should be out defending us.” Marie offered another sad smile, and it made Rita feel strange inside. She wasn’t sure how to react to compassion from authority figures. “So I’m going to believe you no matter how crazy it sounds, and I’m going to listen to you.”

Rita’s restlessness deflated, leaving her feeling empty and strange. Glados made sure her Courtiers were fed and sheltered, but she never offered a shoulder. No one ever did. It was assumed everyone was in danger so there was no point in caring for anyone. Alice had cared, in her own odd way, which might have been proof she was never suited for the Court. Chell and Caroline were never suited for it either, come to think of it.

In fact, it’d been so long since anyone asked Rita how she felt that she had no idea what to say.

“…This is really good soup,” she said weakly. 

“Mom says you can stay as long as you need to.” Chell seemed to be regaining her voice, at least. “I mean, there’s not a lot of room but it’s just the two of us now…”

“Uh.” Rita lowered the spoon and rubbed the back of her neck. “Well. You’ll have to fight off all the people knockin’ down the door to have me around, of course. But sure, yeah.” As strange as she felt about it, she was grateful to Chell for sparing her the need to ask.

_Uh, so._ Rita had almost forgotten how to use the telepathy Magi shared, as it wasn’t commonly used in the Court, but she could still do it.  _You told her everything? Everything-everything._

_Well, no. I mean, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her about the Witches. She knows I’m in a dangerous situation._

_If you know what you’re doin’._ Rita let the subject drop, turning back to her soup. She felt rather out of place, hanging around there while Chell bonded with her mother, but there was no way she was going back to bed without finishing her meal.

“Oh, that reminds me. I should ask Craig about something…”

* * *

 

“Mom?” Craig was already up and dressed, of course. He was the one who would get Kevin up in the morning before Kevin got sick. “It sounds like someone else is coming to dinner. Just one more. Is that alright?”

“That’s fine, honey,” Mrs. Wilson said idly as she tied a sash in her hair. “Just remember, we’re gonna need your help in the kitchen.” With his mother and father tending the store and Craig at school, Kevin would be left alone most of the day. He never thought he’d miss school, but enrolling again so close to the term break was apparently so difficult he wasn’t scheduled to start attending again until after the Christmas holiday. Kevin himself was still in his pajamas, his shredded wheat soaking up milk.

“I can help in the kitchen.” Kevin’s volunteering was answered by another idle nod from Veronica, who seemed to be in a hurry. Aliens or no aliens, he felt the desire to do something. Everyone was still treating him like he was made of glass.

Theoretically Kevin should have been sleeping to ‘regain his strength,’ but he hadn’t been able to sleep due to strange dreams and a little bit of guilt. The red bird hadn’t been back again. Maybe he’d ruined his chances of seeing her again. Perhaps this was a secret test of character, and he’d failed it by being mean to Craig.

“Uh, Craig?”

“Hmm?”

“…Your friends are coming over tonight, right?” Kevin decided to test the waters in between swallows of cereal. Maybe Craig didn’t even care about Kevin calling him a liar.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Craig’s voice was a bit flat, and he wasn’t meeting Kevin’s gaze. Inwardly, Kevin felt himself shrivel up. Craig was mad at him. Why did Kevin just always say the first thing that was on his mind? Who cared about aliens if his big brother didn’t like him much anymore?

“Craig?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry about what I said earlier.” Kevin lowered his head, stirring the milk. “You’re not a liar. I was just mad. After dinner, can you talk to me about stuff? Please? I mean after your friends are gone. Please?”

That seemed to catch Veronica’s attention, but she let her sons speak rather than interfering. Craig’s eyes widened for a second before the older boy turned away, his voice as monotone as ever. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Please stay out of trouble.” He left before Kevin could say much else.

Was Craig still mad? How could Kevin tell? He always knew what his mom and dad were thinking, or at least he thought he did. Craig was so difficult to read, methodical and quiet. Kevin had to listen for inflections in his voice to tell if he was pleased or upset. Only once had Kevin even seen Craig cry, when Kevin’s hospital stay started. It had been, on some level, just as upsetting as his illness to see logical, princely Craig break down like that. But at least then Kevin knew what Craig was thinking.

He washed out his bowl in the sink and returned to his room when he spotted a familiar flash of red at the window. Quickly he opened it a crack and the alien bird hopped in. “Hey! You’re here during the day? What if someone sees?”

The bird hopped onto his desk. “It’ll be fine,” she chirped. “I’m sorry I haven’t been by the past few days. We’ve been busy! Have you seen the white cat yet, by the way?”

“White cat? Only once, talking to Craig.” Kevin knelt on his bed, fidgeting with his feet. “Hey, I keep getting these weird dreams…”

“Weird dreams? I bet that means if you contract with the white cat, you’ll get oracle magic!”

“Contract? Oracle magic?”

“He’ll explain it when he appears to you. And he will soon! Or he should, he should.” The bird hopped up and down, her voice oddly impatient. “An oracle is someone who can see the future. You could understand everything!”

“Understand everything, huh…” Kevin rested his head on his knees. “That’d be a nice change. Everybody keeps hiding things from me or treating me like a bird in a cage. Uh, no offense.”

“None taken! If you have magic no one will ever have to protect you again. You’ll have the power to protect others. Just make sure if you meet my friend the White Cat, you’ll make a contract! Otherwise you may never get a chance again.”

Kevin thought of dreams full of stars and strange prophets. Could he speak to people like that boy in green and the girl in gray and white? Would he end up like Craig, poised and cool with enough friends to invite over to dinner? Maybe he’d end up even more special than Craig, and not just for being a ‘sick kid.’

And yet something felt off and wrong. This wasn’t how he would have seen it happening, making contact with aliens.

“How come I have to keep you secret from my brother? He knows the White Cat.”

“He’ll keep it to himself! I told you. He doesn’t want you to have this chance.”

“I dunno. That doesn’t sound like him. I mean he tries to do everything himself, but…” Kevin sighed, and then reached into his pocket where he pulled out a little plastic bag. “Oh, I got you something in case you came back. Birds like grains, right?”

“…Uh. Yes?” The red bird blinked.

“Here! It’s shredded wheat.” Kevin placed the little piece of cereal in front of the bird, who stared at it perplexed. “Hopefully Earth food isn’t bad for your physiology or something.”

The bird blinked again. “…Thank…you. You’re a very generous Earth boy.” She pecked at it slowly, perhaps making sure it wasn’t poisonous.

* * *

Penelope landed at the feet of Alex before she transformed into her human shape again, making sure no one else was around. She made a face. “That goddamn kid brought me Shredded Wheat. It’s not even a good cereal! When the hell is Kyubey gonna contract him anyway? Playing fairy godmother is getting old.”

Alex reached over and ruffled her curly hair, giving her one of his rare smiles. “I’m surprised at your acting. I think he’s buying it at any rate. But Kyubey might be hesitating just to irritate the Queen.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised. Ugh, Rita quits and suddenly there’s a lot more work for me. Go figure. Man, if this kid isn’t an oracle I’m gonna wonder why Glados wants him Contracted so badly.”

“It has something to do with his brother.” Alex shrugged, his voice just as level as ever. “And Rita leaving means fewer Grief Seeds to share. Let her get herself killed.”

“Yeah, yeah…hey.” Penelope wrinkled her forehead as she looked past Alex’s shoulder, seeing a tall blond figure walk out of a McDonalds across the street. “…Hey, wait. Isn’t that, uh, what’s his face. One of Chell’s people?”

“Shh! Act natural,” Alex urged her. It was a bit too late, as the tall boy had made eye contact. He was engaged moments later with the bagel sandwich in his mouth, trying to make sure it didn’t fall onto the sidewalk, and moved along.

“Well…we were spotted. But whatever. I mean it’s one more night, right?”

Alex shook his head. “She’s moving it up to tonight. I think losing Rita put her in a mood to strike.”  
“Tonight? God dammit, I have homework.”

“Shh. It’ll be alright.” Alex offered Penelope another smile and a peck on the cheek. “We’ll be done by 11. Just be sure to start your homework early.”

“Alright, alright…man, I’m too much of a softie for you.” Penelope grinned, cracking her knuckles. “Guess we’ll see what Space Kid wishes for after all…”

* * *

 _Liar. Liar. You’re a liar._ True that Kevin had apologized for those words, but they were still true. They hung around Craig like a thick vapor. He was a liar, and he’d have to keep lying to his family for the possibly short duration of his life. They’d never even know what had happened to him.

But they’d be safe from Witches and the Queen. Kevin would never Contract and that would be that.

He spotted Wheatley scrambling into homeroom at the last minute this this time. That was nothing new, but the young Brit looked exhausted, yawning and mumbling his name in attendance. Craig caught up with him at lunch period, sitting down at the table where Wheatley usually sat by himself.

“Nachos aren’t real food,” he said by way of greeting. “No matter what the cafeteria claims.”

“Hmm? Oh, hey mate.” Wheatley waved a hand, barely looking up. “And they are so. The chips are made of corn, the cheese sauce is made of…well, at some point there was cheese involved. Something cheese-like at any rate. And probably milk! There's a little bit of meat. Think I see a hot pepper in there.”

“Hmph. Budget cuts mean we get cheaper food that’s not as healthy. This salad’s mostly iceberg lettuce. And the tomato soup’s all salt. But fact is, you keep eating like that and you’re not going to feel any better.”

“And you’re not gonna get any taller eating leaves,” Wheatley insisted with a little smirk. “Anyway, I’m fine! Just didn’t get much sleep last night.” There was no lie-detecting flicker, though Craig wondered why he kept listening for it around his friends. He was the liar, after all.

“You’re still up for dinner tonight, right? We’re having eggplant parmesan. Mom’s looking forward to meeting you all.”

“Of course!” The grin on Wheatley’s face was bright and genuine, dark circles under his eyes notwithstanding. “I mean, it sounds like fun. Besides, got to keep an eye on your little brother! I’d like to meet him. And your parents. Your family seems nice! I mean you’ve never said anything bad about them, and well-it would be nice to be around a functional family sometime. Not that my family’s not…uh, well, yes! Yes, looking forward to it. I do have some errands to take care of after class, but I’ll be there! Won’t be late.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Of course! We don’t get sick, mate. I mean we have rough times but we don’t get contagious-sick. Just have to adjust my sleeping schedule a bit and I’ll be fine. Spend less time on the internet. Uncle gets home so late most of the time he doesn’t really yell at me to go to bed. Which is nice but I should probably start going to bed more regularly…” Wheatley stifled a yawn, took a bite of nacho and then almost choked on it, washing it down with iced tea. “Wait! Wait, I remember now! There WAS something I wanted to tell you. Kind of alarming, actually…”

“Wait, what?” Craig leaned forward. “Why didn’t you tell me at homeroom?”

“Was too tired! It didn’t really register. But you live by the art store, yeah?”

Craig nodded, a feeling of dread sinking into him. “Right near the school. My parents run the shop and we live right above it.”

“Right…yeah, I pass it on my way to school, right? Well, you know that really mean girl with the curly hair? The one who changes into animals? She was at the corner near your store. I mean she looked like she was just talking to someone, and I couldn’t recognize him from the back of his head. Was grabbing breakfast and I was already a bit late. For all I know she was waiting to shop, except I’m sure she’s got classes too.”

“Penelope…oh, dammit.” Craig had lost his appetite as his adrenaline spiked, but he forced himself to eat anyway. Skipping meals was unhealthy. “Okay, it’s going to be fine.”  
“Going to be completely fine!”

“We’ve got the four of us there tonight, so we can keep an eye on him.”

“Right, four-wait, four?” Wheatley counted on his fingers. “Me, you, Chell…”

“Chell mentioned bringing a fourth.” Craig shrugged. “She didn’t text you?”  
“Uh-no! No, my phone’s not been working.” Wheatley turned a bit red in the cheeks. “Man alive, I hope she hasn’t been trying to text me. Well I’ll see her tonight and explain the whole thing and hopefully she won’t be mad.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Craig muttered after swallowing a mouthful of salad.

* * *

“Wow, so you came out for this.” Penelope had already turned herself into a bird, and perched on Glados’s shoulder. She, Glados and Alex were gathering in a park not far from the Wilson household to go over the plan. “I didn’t think you cared that much about one potential recruit.”

“It’s not really him I care about. It’s a meddler and his meddling friends.” Glados was carrying her prize in her hands, shooing Kyubey away from it. “Stop it. You know you’ll get this when I’m done with it and you’ll get a Contract out of it. I don’t know why you waited so long anyway.”

“At this point I’m curious. Besides, I had other people to Contract. My plans don’t center around yours,” Kyubey reminded the queen as he perched on her other shoulder.

“Lookit you! Like a cartoon princess with animals flocking on you.” Penelope guffawed. Alex, his footprints in the light snow the only proof of his presence, said nothing. Glados actually smiled.

“I know. I don’t mind being called princess. I’m just a princess who survived long enough to become queen. Now you know the plan. If the Little Queen, the moron or the traitor interfere, I’m counting on you.”

“God, I hope they do. So tired of sweet talking that kid. He’s kinda weird. I mean, who believes in aliens?”

Glados cleared her throat, thumbing at Kyubey, and Penelope wisely decided to shut up. The Queen checked a watch.

“Well. They should be starting dinner any minute now…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going to upload a few chapters at once now to hopefully catch myself up to the stuff I have on Tumblr.


	17. "Proceed with caution."

“Two? Two Grief Seeds in one night?” Doug sounded more perplexed than pleased, and drew his mouth in a tight line as Wheatley held up his prizes in an open hand. “This city really does have an unnatural surfeit of Witches…”

“Doesn’t it though? Seems like there’s one every bloody night.” Wheatley tried to ignore Doug’s confusion, though he’d expected a more positive reaction. He’d been exhausted all through class, but had since hit what was either a second wind or the sort of giddy energy that came from lack of sleep. Maybe he didn’t need sleep at all. He’d adjust.

Doug crossed his arms in front of his chest, nodding in a manner that came across as comforting and adult even if Wheatley was nearly as tall as he was. “You use one.”

“What, really mate? I figured this way you and your assistant-well I mean, I assumed about her…well, okay! That’s mighty generous of you…” Wheatley wanted to take the subject off of his Gem. He found not thinking about it for as long as possible worked in his favor, at least most of the time. Besides, he didn’t Doug to question his skill or competence. His eyes searched the room, and soon the strange chalk drawings and pastel paintings adorning the walls caught his attention. “Did you really draw all this? I mean all…this,” he indicated with a wave of his hand.

The drawings had to have been made at different times, and yet they seemed to flow into each other. There was a picture of a woman with long hair and a staff looming over terrified and adoring worshipers, the whole thing rendered in angry black chalk. That had to be the Queen, no doubt. There were Soul Gems and star patterns, the lurking red eyes of Kyubey and numerous Magi he didn’t recognize, many of them crossed out. Some were smudged at the edges and others had been rubbed out completely, Doug’s fingerprints still visible.

“These are…well these are quite good,” Wheatley commented, eyes wide as he walked up to one wall mural. “Here you are an artist and a scientist, and I can’t even draw a straight line.” He ran a finger down one of the chalk lines and smudged it without realizing so, panicked and tried to smudge it back into order before Doug noticed, and wiped blue pastel dust on his black pants. “So! So, what are they? Just dreams like the one of the goddess? Is this like a-a big dream journal? I heard of people keeping those. I tried once but none of my dreams are very interesting, got to tell you…”

Doug was silent for a moment as he approached the wall, hands clasped behind his back. The shakiness was back in his voice, and he seemed to have trouble looking at the wall for very long from the way his eyes darted about. “It’s something like that. Sometimes I just draw to…it helps me focus. I try to remember people who aren’t with us anymore. And this way, if my time ever does run out, maybe someone else will find it and…” He just trailed off, staring down at his feet.

The man looked so somber that Wheatley felt he just had to steer the attention away from Doug’s potential mortality. He certainly didn’t want to think about it. Of course Doug would be fine! “Anyway, it’s great! Kind of-kind of Picasso style? Abstract. I mean that’s obviously Kyubey, and that’s…” His voice left him as he stared at one of the sketches he hadn’t noticed before.

It was a young woman, the sketch not yet colored in. She was nothing but a black outline. Yet he knew those ribbons trailing from her pony tailed hair. He knew the frills of her ‘magical girl’ dress, the way the long belt tied in a bow and flew behind her like a pair of big feathers, those boots and that elaborate gun. The wings and halo were a new addition. Even though her face was left blank, he could imagine the determined look on it as she leaped through the air, propelling herself into a portal. That was the form he saw fighting the Witch at a time that seemed so long ago, when he stared at her in wonder and adoration and wished to be special, special enough to be important to her…

“Are you alright?” It was Doug’s voice that snapped Wheatley out of a flood of memories, and the boy turned red. He realized there were tears burning his eyes, though he had no idea why. How embarrassing.

“No, fine, fine! Chalk dust in my eyes,” Wheatley said as he wiped the offending tears away. None more came, thankfully, maintaining his lie. “This, uh, this one here, what is it? I mean obviously it’s a girl, but who is it and why did you draw…her…?”

“Her?” Doug looked up at the picture of the angelic Chell. “I don’t know her name or much about her. She was in one of my visions, and Cici said it was probably significant enough to record.”

“Cici?”                                                                                                              

“My assistant. Sorry, she’s shy.”

“Oh, right…” Wheatley barely registered the name of the never-seen assistant, still staring at the chalk drawing. It looked so much like the first time he’d seen her fighting. It didn’t matter that it was just an outline. She was beautiful.

She was beautiful, and important enough for the oracle to envision and draw her. When he followed the curving lines of the drawings as they entwined with one another, he thought he could make out a few Magi he recognized-there was Craig, a figure in a red cloak, though he was in the background standing near someone in a matching yellow cloak. There was Alice and the poor kid Craig had told him about, Mikhail, both crossed out. Even they were noteworthy enough to be seen and drawn, and they were  _dead_.

Here and there he saw a few magical girls and boys in blue, all in elaborate outfits, but not a single one looked like him at all. Why did he expect otherwise? It was one thing to see the Queen as important. Of course she was. And yet…

It took Wheatley a moment to notice Doug was staring at his, well, staring. Wheatley cleared his throat and tried to act natural as Doug patted his lab coat pockets as if looking for something he couldn’t find. “That girl, as I said, I don’t know who she is. But my instincts tell me she’s important. No, she’s significant. She’s the key to everything, I just have to figure out why.”

“Wait, what? How? Key to what?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know much yet. But the dream told me she was the gatekeeper who could lead us to the goddess. Why, do you know anything about her?”

Did he? Of course Wheatley knew her. She was the reason he was involved in this mess. She was the hero who had all the confidence and bravery he didn’t. She was his friend. She had hot chocolate with him and looked out for him. But she was headstrong and competent when he always felt like he was fumbling around. She was the blazing sun and he was a pale moon dimly reflecting a bit of her light instead of shining any of his own. She was significant. She was important. She was  _special_.

Doug was spelling it out right for Wheatley, and how could an oracle be wrong? Even here, in this secret place where Wheatley was privy to mysteries few others seemed to know about and involved in a covert mission to save the city, no, the entire world from Kyubey’s grasp, there she was. She was reminding him once again that she was the special one, the ‘little Queen,’ and he, perpetually caught up in her literal magical glamour, existed to _glorify her._

He was vaguely aware of Doug’s voice trying to get his attention, but the man kept slipping out of Wheatley’s focus, replaced with another voice.

_“I was saying, I get why they keep you around. You don’t seem to be very brave or smart, but heroes need someone to save, after all.”_

Alex’s taunts echoed in his mind, and Wheatley grit his teeth. No, it was Chell! Nice, friendly Chell who cared about him. This was Chell, who he wanted to work up the courage to ask out someday when they weren’t under constant threat.

_“You give them a reason to keep fighting. You inspire them with your weakness and vulnerability.”_

Wheatley took deep breaths as he tried to regain control of his own emotions, but the thought wouldn’t leave his mind. No matter how many Witches he fought for Doug, no matter how many secrets he helped the man uncover, ultimately it would still all come down to her. He was still support. That was all he’d ever be. Just a walking shield, possibly destined to break for her sake as she saved everyone.  _Important to her,_ just as he wished to be.

“Wheatley! Are you sure you’re alright?” Doug set a hand on Wheatley’s shoulder and snapped him out of it once more. Wheatley had the good graces to look sheepish. What was he thinking, letting his mind get away from him like that? Of course he wasn’t upset over this. Of course he was okay with it.

He took a deep breath. “I’m fine, mate. Really! Just thought of something else entirely and got a bit distracted. Sorry! It-oh, it is late, I should get going. Dinner at a friend’s house and I have to run home and change first. Don’t want to meet up with them in my school uniform, not to mention it got all grimy from the slush out there. Terrible stuff, slush. Slippery as ice!”

Doug’s two-colored eyes gazed intently at Wheatley. “Wheatley. Do you know this girl?”

“Know? I…uh, I might have seen her around before.” Wheatley rubbed the back of his neck. His throat felt a bit dry. He had to calm himself. No good would come of letting any of those thoughts filter through, not when he was going to a real family dinner at the house of a real friend who needed  _him_  to be a real friend. Besides, that couldn’t have been how he really felt. He was just overtired.

Doug was quiet for a few moments. “Proceed with caution. I don’t even know how she’s involved yet, and I don’t want to drag more people into anything.”

“Right, right…” Wheatley turned to look at the chalk painting again and then look away when the sight of it caused another spike of something toxic and alluring. He dug his hands in his pockets.

“Wheatley,” Doug said slowly in that uneven, fractured voice of his. “How’s your Soul Gem?”

“It’s fine! It’s fine,” Wheatley snapped back too quickly. “I mean…sorry mate, but I really have to go. Show you next time but I assure you it’s fine. Don’t worry. Gotta go, time and all…” He bolted out of the door, holding his hand to his forehead only once he was down the hallway. Deep breaths. He could fix himself. He always did. “Just overtired, that’s all. Get overtired and your mind does all kinds of things…”

* * *

 

For the first time in a long while, Chell actually wore one of her homemade outfits. It was one of the more conservative ones, a rose-patterned blouse with black pants sewn during her ‘copy Betsey Johnson’ stage and a hair bow made of matching fabric. Rita had urged her to wear ‘one of the big dumb frilly ones,’ but there was a time and a place for that style.

She wasn’t sure when she’d stopped caring about what she wore. Early on she’d admitted to herself she’d been hoping for something a little girlier in her magical combat outfit, akin to Rita’s flowered hat or Caroline’s black ballgown. Maybe it was when the job started to take a toll on her that she neglected her hobbies along with everything else.

Certainly the job, as it were, was no less stressful nowadays. Perhaps she just wanted to make a good impression. Or maybe it was because winning Rita back over was her first victory in some time. Even if it was a small one, it’d actually shot her with a bit of optimism.

Rita, of course, would have none of it. She borrowed Chell’s sweatshirt and jeans, which hung a little loose on the shorter girl. “So it’s really not a big deal if I come, then? I mean if I’m gonna be in the way it won’t hurt my feelings. I’ll do some recon around the building or something.”

“I think they’d be more weirded out if you were scouting around their apartment,” Chell noted as her boots crunched through the muddy slush. It wasn’t too long a walk to Craig’s place, and Craig had apparently directed Wheatley to meet them in front of the shop. Chell pulled out her cell and narrowed her eyes at the ‘out of service’ response she’d gotten when she’d tried to text Wheatley.

“Man, you still use those? Why don’t you, you know.” Rita tapped the side of her temples, and then sent Chell a message through the link some Magi shared.  _Just do this?_

Chell winced.  _I don’t like doing that._ Speaking aloud too much always wore her out emotionally, as socializing in general had never been one of her strengths. The idea of being expected to ‘speak’ through her mind exhausted her.  _But if it’s necessary…_

_Then again, I can see why ya wouldn’t want to open your brain to those guys. Craig’s probably all NERD NERD NERD and the blond never shuts up._ “But nothin’ freaks out eavesdroppers than slipping in and out of it in a conversation,” Rita added before laughing a bit. “So, who you dressing up for?”

“Huh? What?” Chell’s shoulders went stiff and she stared at Rita. “What do you mean? I like dressing up.”

“I know. But who ya dressing up for? Wheatley? Craig? Me? I bet it’s me.”

As Chell felt the blood rush to her face, she let out a long sigh. “I don’t think Craig is interested. And Wheatley…” She let the sentence trail off, because she didn’t know the answer to that. His crush on her, and her feelings towards it, were details she’d pushed into the background in a futile hope she’d never have to address them at all. “I don’t know.”

“So me.” Rita nudged Chell and grinned. “Knew it.”

“Hey! I’m dressing up for myself.” Chell glowered at Rita. She’d certainly slipped back into old patterns once they were done being rivals.

“Everyone’s in love with me.” Rita threw out her arms as if greeting a throng of admirers. “But Rita the Adventure Girl is far too young to be settling down and givin’ her heart to anyone.”  
“Rita…”

“Oh hey, there he is. Hey, Harry Potter! Guess who?!” Rita called out to a tall distant figure, who jumped at her voice and came running around the corner towards the two girls, very nearly falling into the slush himself before grabbing onto a lamppost to regain his balance.

“Uh, Chell? Is that-is that Rita? Are you Rita? You are, right? Stupid question, of course you are…” Wheatley stared between the two girls. He was actually wearing a nice button-down shirt instead of his usual baggy t-shirts, and Chell had to admit the effect was flattering even if the baffled look on his face ruined it a bit. “What…what happened?”

“It’s a long-“

“I quit.” Rita cut Chell right off. “So now I’m with you jerks. Lucky to have me, Potter?” She slapped Wheatley on the back, and he stumbled and had to catch himself on the pole again. He was clumsy at the best of times, but Chell couldn’t notice how unstable he seemed on his own two feet, or the bags under his eyes.

Not that whatever was affecting him stopped him from scowling at Rita. “Well, that’s all well and good but why do you keep calling me Harry Potter? I don’t even look like him! No black hair, no scar, got rid of the bloody glasses…”

“He’s British, you’re British.” Rita shrugged. “Just bein’ friendly here, buddy. We’re gonna work together now!”

“I…I guess we are.” Wheatley dusted himself off, still apparently a bit baffled, and turned to Chell. There was something awkward in the way he looked at her, his smile a bit more strained and his body language somehow more restrained. “Oh, Chell! Sorry I haven’t…uh, sorry if you’ve been trying to text me. Phone’s on the fritz. Total mess. Probably won’t be able to get it fixed for a…a week or two. But I’ve still got e-mail! You know, that sort of thing. Plus I see Craig in class. So it’ll all be fine.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, and Chell though he stole a glance at her hair bow. “You look-good! You look good. Significant. I mean, significantly good. Why’d I say significant?” He finally fell quiet, and Chell longed for someone, even Rita to break the silence of the next few seconds which passed like molasses.

“Fact: You’re 32 seconds late.”

Craig came to the rescue, opening the doors to the shop. He didn’t sound annoyed, though he was holding up his watch. “I was making a joke,” he added without a smile. “Kevin’s helping Dad in the kitchen. I forgot to ask, is vegetarian chili alright? I mean, that’s what we’re making. So I assume it is.”

“Oh, it’s fine!” Wheatley had mercifully stopped staring at Chell and grinned. “Sounds perfect, mate. To be honest I thought it might be tofu or something-I mean tofu is fine! Tofu is fine, really. I assume, I’ve never had it. But chili’s food! Not that tofu isn’t food, but…I’ll shut up now, how about I do that?”

Craig looked up at Wheatley, and though Chell couldn’t see Craig’s expression, Wheatley backed up as if penetrated. “Wheatley. Are you alright?”

“What? Fine! Yeah, I’m fine. Just haven’t slept well.” Wheatley rubbed one of his eyes. “Don’t worry about me, mate. What about you? I mean, with everything going on. Are  _you_  alright?”

“…Yes. I’m fine.” Craig lowered his head, and the flat tone in his voice was a bit unconvincing. “Kevin is…aware of things somehow. Please don’t let him Contract.”

Chell shook her head and tried to reassure Craig with a smile. “We won’t.”

* * *

 

 

“So Craig doesn’t bring too many friends home. I guess he just likes to keep that stuff at school.” Mr. Wilson walked in carrying a big bowl of chili, and Kevin followed with a pitcher of iced tea. For once at least someone in his family was trusting him with actual responsibilities.

Kevin sat down between Craig and the tall white kid Craig claimed was not his boyfriend. Craig was as staid as he ever was and even avoided making eye contact with Kevin. Did that mean he was still mad at Kevin for the ‘liar’ thing, or was he having trouble keeping secrets about aliens?

It was particularly frustrating because Craig’s mysterious friends were all so  _nice_ , even if Rita and Wheatley did most of the talking.

“So yeah, I guess you could say I’ve got a black belt in parkour.” Even Kevin knew Rita was probably making the whole thing up, but there was something infectious about her bravado. “Man, this stuff is good! Can I get a refill, Mrs. Wilson?”

“It’s our secret recipe,” Kevin bragged. He had no idea if it was, but his mother just chuckled at him for it. “I know how to make it, but Dad likes to be the one to do it.” If Craig was going to fade into the background of his own friends’ event, Kevin would just have to take the spotlight for him. “So how do you guys know Craig?”

The brief, confused pause that came before Wheatley spoke up didn’t go unnoticed by Kevin. He knew it. They all had secrets. “Well, Craig and I have a few classes together and we know Chell through…uh, there’s this video game! You know, computer game, and she’s in our…our guild. And usually you know, not safe to meet up with people online but we found out she lived right in the neighborhood and was our age and figured it was fine, and we were all fast friends! And Chell introduced us to Rita…”

Mrs. Wilson looked around and then shrugged a bit. “Well, you’re obviously not axe murderers. Craig, are you alright? You’ve barely touched your food.”

“Uh…I’m fine.” Craig stirred his chili. “There’s a lot on my mind.”

“There’s been a lot on your mind lately. If you need to talk…well, I understand, you have friends over.” But Mrs. Wilson was still frowning, and Kevin watched his brother carefully. Why would Craig be acting so strangely? Was he afraid his friends would give up the secret Craig apparently trusted them with but not Kevin?

Wheatley held up his plate. “Well, I’ll take thirds if that’s alright! Splendid cooking, Mrs. Wilson.” He seemed like the most talkative, so Kevin made his move.

“So, do you think aliens exist?” 

Craig almost choked on his dinner and had to wash it down with a glass of tea, and he noticed the other three kids jolt to attention too. Bingo. They all thought he was stupid! 

“Kevin, honey,” his mother started. “Not everyone’s into the same stuff you’re into…”

“Oh no, it’s fine,” Chell insisted. “I find it very interesting. You like stuff about aliens, Kevin?”

“I follow lots of websites talking about first contact and abduction. And I read books, and…”

“You should read more Carl Sagan,” Craig interrupted. “Most abductions are just delusions. People hear stories so often they begin to imagine them happening to themselves.”

A spark of fury burned in Kevin’s gut. How dare Craig embarrass him like that, when he knew he saw Craig talking to an alien? “You don’t know for sure! Don’t act like you know everything. I read a lot of science books and websites and stuff, too.”

“Science is built on  _facts_. If you keep following weird ideas, it’ll lead you into trouble.” Craig was very aggressively stirring his chili now.

Kevin took a deep breath and then slammed his hands on the table. 

“Kevin!” his mother scolded, though he barely heard her. He didn’t care that Craig’s friends were watching. Sitting still much longer would just cause his anger to boil over.

“I know you’re lying, Craig! I know you’re hiding things from me and everyone else and it’s because you don’t trust me! That’s it, isn’t it? Nobody trusts me because everyone thinks I’m fragile or something!”

Craig looked for a moment as if he’d been slapped, but the cold demeanor returned immediately like a mask. “What could I possibly be lying to you about?”

“Forget it! I’m done, Mom!” He grabbed his mostly-empty bowl and marched into the kitchen to wash it off, drowning out confused murmurs with the sound of the running hot water.

He wasn’t alone for long. Craig tapped him on the shoulder. “Look, I’m sorry I embarrassed you. But please trust me. You don’t want to get involved in this.” The older brother was whispering, as if trying to hide it from the parents who they knew would be following in seconds.

“You just treat me like a baby! I don’t want to be trapped in here forever and safe and sound. I spent so long in that hospital room just reading about all the cool stuff I could have been doing, except I was too sick to go anywhere or do anything. And then…” Kevin knew there were tears stinging his eyes, but he didn’t care. “And then I got all better and all the doctors were scared and nobody told me why! Even Mom and Dad don’t know why. But you know, don’t you? You know everything and you just want to keep it to yourself because you’re the perfect brother and I’m…!”

Craig grabbed Kevin by the shoulders. “Kevin, I’m sorry! I didn’t…but I can’t tell you. Please, the facts would kill you! Those…aliens or whatever, they’re dangerous…”

“So you DO know! There are aliens, and…and…” Kevin stopped to catch his breath, and realized his parents hadn’t run in to stop the boys from having a shouting match. “…Where’s Mom and Dad? Why’s it so quiet?”

In fact, the kitchen had gone dead silent and it was if all of the color had literally been drained from the kitchen. Everything except the two boys within was black and white. Kevin slowly turned around towards the kitchen to see his mother and father, both standing like grayscale statues, frozen in place as curious checkerboard patterns began to spread through the wall.

Wheatley, Chell and Rita ran in, dressed in strange colorful outfits. “Bad news mate! Some kind of Witch is here, and it’s got…well, you can see your parents! Better hide Keviiioooh, hi, Kevin,” Wheatley added as he bit his lip.

Kevin shot Craig the sharpest look of accusation he could manage. “You know about this? What’s going on, Craig?!”

Craig made a frustrated noise as a red light enveloped him, leaving him dressed in a scarlet cloak with a mask. “Okay. Kevin, please just…follow directions, alright? Wheatley, Chell, please hide Kevin away so Kyubey and the Court can’t get to him. Rita, let’s try to take out that Witch as fast as possible. We’re probably the strongest offensively…”

It was obvious Craig was trying to avoid him, but Kevin had little time to react as the world turned a shade of blue and he found himself trapped in a blue crystal bubble.  He bounced off of its surface trying to follow Craig, who ran off with Rita.

“Sorry mate.” Wheatley held one gloved hand out, rubbing the back of his neck with the other. “Nothing personal, yeah? I think he’s just under a lot of stress. People do things they don’t mean when they’re upset.”

“He cares about you,” Chell added with a gentle tone, but Kevin could only stare at the strange landscape warping around him into checkerboarded halls, stairways to nowhere and doors. A million mysteries all around him, and once again he was prevented from doing anything or finding anything out on his own for his own good.

“Come on,” she said, pressing a hand to his shield. “I’ll lead you somewhere safe. We’ll talk about it then. Alright…?” She seemed to open a little hole in the shield, shimmering orange at the rim. “Just step inside…”

Kevin hesitated, reaching his fingers through the hole as they vanished. Somewhere safe. But he didn’t want safe…

A flash of bright gold light filled the room, and a slithering, liquid  _something_  forced its serpentine body right between Chell and Wheatley, slamming both of them against opposite sides of the kitchen. The shield and portal both vanished, both teenagers obscured by a wall of metallic golden goo reaching dripping appendages towards Kevin. He backed up against the wall, staring at a distorted reflection of himself in a waterfall that seemed to sprout eyes.

“Over here!” Kevin looked in the direction of the familiar voice, and his red bird friend flew around a corner that hadn’t been there a moment before. “Come on, to freedom!”

Looking back once more at the two mysterious teenagers facing the erupting wall of goo, Kevin hesitated for just a second before running off to follow her.


	18. "Everyone lies."

“Where are you? Where is this?” Kevin chased after the bird as she flew down one labyrinthe hallway and then another. She was the only spot of red in the entire strange maze which had taken over his apartment building. Hallways seemed to melt into one another, stairs led in circles and pathways curved at impossible angles. Without another reference point, Kevin followed the bird.

“Hurry! He’s got to be here somewhere.” The red bird fluttered ahead and then landed on a melting, warped chair as Kevin caught up. He had to catch his breath, unused to running that much. “Kevin, it’s time!”

“Time for what? I don’t understand anything! You’ll tell me what’s going on, right? Craig won’t, his friends won’t…” Kevin lifted his glasses and wiped tears away. “Please tell me! It’s the aliens, right?”

“Of course it is. Craig wouldn’t tell you because he wanted to keep this to himself! He’s helping to stop the monsters who did this to your family and your home. But if we can find the white rabbit, you can help him.” The bird fluttered her wings. “He’s protective but misguided. You don’t want to be protected forever, do you?”

“White rabbit? Like in Alice?” Why would aliens know about Alice in Wonderland? It had to be some odd kind of coincidence. Maybe they’d intercepted Earth broadcasts and were using forms like birds and rabbits to communicate. It happened sometimes in sci-fi stories. But the last question forced Kevin to push his doubts to the back of his mind. “No, I don’t. I don’t want to be treated like a baby or trapped behind walls.” He glowered behind him, even though he had no idea which direction he’d run from anymore with the ever-changing hallways. “They’re just gonna put me in a bubble again or something…”

“And you don’t want that! You want to fly free.” The bird took off and hovered just above Kevin. “A free spirit! You’re meant to soar with the stars, not hide away. If we can find the White Rabbit, he’ll grant your wish and give you the power your brother has. Do you have a wish?”

A wish? “I…I don’t know. I mean, to know what’s going on I guess. Or to become an astronaut when I grow up. Or to..or…I don’t know yet! Let me think about it. Do you know which way the rabbit is?”

“He should be…hold on!” The walls began to quake seconds before another massive worm-like creature dove right down from the ceiling, a wall of liquid gold to match the silver one from before. Kevin’s distorted reflection briefly stared back at him before he heard the bird’s voice shout a battle cry and a chakram cut right through the worm, causing it to retreat back into the wall again.

Where the bird had been standing was a tall girl with curly hair clad in red, holding the chakram and grinning. “You’ll be able to do that soon, Kevin! Just think of it…”

“…Wait.” He rubbed his eyes. “Are you the bird…? You’re a human? Or are you just taking-nevermind. Please! Take me to the white rabbit!” Maybe that rabbit would finally tell him the truth.

* * *

“I lost him! I bloody-who loses a person, really?!” Wheatley ran a hand down his face as he and Chell dashed down a twisting hallway. The Labyrinth had transformed the apartment into a maze constructed haphazardly from pieces of a much fancier house, with curtains grasping and velvet chairs melting into the floor. The Witch, for the metallic liquid worm was too big to be anything else, had vanished back into the ceiling after a few well-placed shots from Chell.

That meant it was still around and intact, lurking in its maze and ready to strike at any time. The paranoia was not helping his mood.

“One job, one job and couldn’t even do that! Craig’ll never forgive us if Kevin gets eaten. Or if he Contracts! Oh, and he’s a good kid, they’re such a nice family and we got to eat dinner together and it was nice…”

Chell cut Wheatley’s whining short, gently cupping a hand over his mouth and pointing at the walls. She’d slipped into her silent mode again it seemed, not that she’d been the chattiest at dinner.

“Oh, right,” he whispered, not feeling anymore at ease. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. You got the barrier up around the parents.” Chell kept looking at the walls, possibly seeking a sign of incoming Witch. “Not too many familiars here..let’s not draw them in case Kevin is nearby.”

“Right, right. You always know what to do…” Even Wheatley was surprised by the hint of contempt in his own voice. This was Chell! He liked that she was the one on top of things, right? He didn’t trust himself with it.

If Chell had noticed the slip she showed no signs. “Kevin was chasing something…”

“A bird, it looked like. Don’t think it was a familiar. They hardly talk…” Wheatley snapped his fingers. “That girl who works for the Queen, the one who tormented Craig! She could turn into red animals. It’s got to be her! Which means the Queen’s definitely trying to contract that poor little guy. Oh, and I’ll bet that bloody partner of hers is there too-hey!”

Again Chell held up a finger to silence him, though she didn’t touch him. He stiffened and turned away from her, scowling. “I’m quite experienced by now you know! No need to babysit me. I can handle these things.”

When he saw the look of astonishment briefly crossing Chell’s face, he immediately flushed with shame and embarrassment. Had he said that aloud? “I…I mean, sorry, just stressed. Stressful situations tend to lead to that. Stressed and guilty and honestly starting to doubt the touted health benefits of vegetarian cuisine because to be quite honest I’m feeling a touch queasy. I mean, to be fair, I had fourths…” He was at least whispering now. “Say dumb things when you’re all…Chell?”

Chell wasn’t listening to him, instead focusing intently on a patch on the wall. It rippled briefly like gelatin before a swarm of gold and silver toy snakes burst out in a flood, giggling and staring up at the magical girl and boy with beady eyes.

“Right. That’d be the familiars.” Wheatley sighed and backed up to Chell, about to summon a shield when he felt something like the fracturing of ice in the back of his mind. He winced and held a hand to his temples. “Okay, more bad news. I don’t think I’ll be able to maintain that barrier from a distance for much longer. I think it’s weakening a smidgen.” It struck him that such a thing might have been possible with a fully-charged Gem, but he didn’t dwell on it.

"I’d better go back so the Wilsons aren’t…you know.” How disappointing; he was hoping he’d at least be able to make up for his failure minutes ago by helping to defeat the Witch. On the other hand, it was as fine an excuse as any to be left alone with his thoughts, and he worried if he spent much more time with Chell he’d blurt out what he’d seen of her on Doug’s wall. Or perhaps he’d get angry at her again out of jealousy, or confess his feelings. They were all things to be ignored under any circumstances.

If Chell saw his discomfort, she mercifully didn’t comment on it. “Yeah, you’d better go do that. I’ll go find Kevin. Or…Craig. Or Rita…or…Glados…”

* * *

The head of Craig’s hammer quaked with the shaking of his hands. They had run into a stained glass hall and hadn’t encountered more than a few storms of weak familiars. His intent had been to draw the Witch’s attention, so that bode ill. It was the uncertainty. Craig hated uncertainty.

“Dude.” Rita set a hand on his shoulder. “Steady. Deep breaths and all that hippie crap.”

“I am steady!”

“No, no, calm. Chill. I don’t mean some ‘find your happy place’ bull, I mean you bottle that rage and fear up. Cook it all up so only the rage is left and save it for the Witch or the Queen. I know she’s here. The Queen, I mean.” Rita spat on a red carpet and a chair crept closer. She whipped it into pieces without hesitation. “She figured out how to pull this crap. Overcharge a Seed and…well, she probably used it on y’all, right?”

“Yes, she used that against us. It’s disgusting. She knows they used to be people and won’t even give ‘em peace.” Craig brought his hammer down as if to take his stress out on the floor and a magical gravitational wave rippled out to flatten a swarm of worms. “She…she can’t have Kevin. Not him.”

“See, I can’t actually tell why she’s hung up on recruiting that kid. He seems nice enough but kinda ordinary, you know? No offense to your brother.” Rita spoke casually even as she held her whip in front of her, electricity crackling from it. “Or why Kyubey hasn’t hooked him already for that matter.”

“…What?”

“Think about it. I mean I don’t do that sorta stuff too often, thinking, but think about it anyway. Kevin’s all curious, right? Innocent. The space rat loves that crap. Used to be like that myself.” For a second there was something distant and far away in her dark brown eyes. She waved her hand around the Labyrinth. “So why go to all this trouble? Why all this? They’re both puzzlin’ me.”

“I…I don’t know.” Craig took a deep breath. “I was so worried about Kevin I didn’t think to consider Kyubey’s strange behavior. I just didn’t want Kevin to find out at all.”

“So you told him nothing until it was obvious something was up? You idiot, that’s just asking for trouble! Attachments for us, they’re…ah hell…” Rita glared at him, and Craig wanted to crawl into a hole. For someone known for being reckless she was remarkably good at making him feel foolish.

“What was I supposed to do?! I thought if I told him, that would ensure he’d Contract. Fact is, he gets into everything if you give him a chance. He’s nosy like that. So now he’s going to Contract, and maybe end up working with that queen. And my wish was to keep him alive, so that would mean my wish…”

Craig didn’t have to look at the gem clasped around his neck to feel it darken. It felt like a chill all over his body. Rita must have noticed it too, as she stiffened cautiously.

“Rita. You don’t think highly of me, do you?”

“Is this the time for-”

“Answer the question.” He’d stopped walking, standing straight and speaking in his authoritative Student Council voice.

“…Kinda put off,” Rita admitted. “At the moment. Nothing permanent. You seem like an alright guy for a nerd most of the time. I mean, kind of a stick in the mud but you know.”

Craig should have expected that. He held up a hand. “That’s enough. That’s about what I thought, though.” His other hand went to his gem clasp as the hammer temporarily vanished. “Listen. If…if I start to change…”

This time Rita stopped short, eyes wide in alarm. “Whoa!” She waved her hands up in front of her. “Whoa now, partner! What’s this all about now?”

He had to steady his hand again. “If Kevin Contracts, he’s doomed in the end like the rest of us. I mean, unless there’s some kind of solution, and if the Queen can’t find one I doubt there is. That makes my wish null and void without violating it. It’s a loophole. I only wished for him to recover from his heart trouble. I…I keep thinking I could take that, but if he Contracted and was going to die anyway and it was my fault in the end…”

“Don’t start with the ‘my fault’ crap. I know where that goes, okay? Bad places. Just drop it.” Rita sounded more shaken than angry or judgemental this time. “And why me? You don’t know me so well. I got a lot on my conscience already, pal!”

Craig forced himself not to look away from Rita even as he felt more shadows gathering in his Gem, bit by tiny bit. “I can trust you to do it. Chell would, but it’d destroy her. Wheatley doesn’t have the nerve. You worked with Glados and survived so you must be pretty pragmatic when you need to be.” His resolve broke and he turned away, holding his arms to his chest and shuddering. “I just don’t want to turn around my brother.” The eerie light filtering from the ceiling danced across his red cloak. “I don’t want to be the Queen’s weapon in the end.”

Rita stared at Craig for several long seconds before assuring a forced nonchalance. Her voice sounded unsteady beneath its usual cockiness. “Fine, fine. Even you’re a drama queen, sheesh. No one’s going Witch today. Whoa, heads up!” The ceiling rumbled before the gold Witch plunged downwards, snatching Rita in its mouth.

The force knocked Craig right back and it took him a moment to recover and pull out his hammer again.

“I got this,” Rita insisted even from between the Witch’s toothless, gummy maw. Seconds later its body convulsed as green lightning ran through it, giving Craig a chance to send a wave of gravity magic to pin it to the ground.

As he held his hand out to unleash the spell, a sense of lightheadedness seemed to flow through him and his throat began to itch. His eyes stung and his vision clouded with blue-black fog, obscuring even the monster from his view and trapping him in a dizzying web of disorientation. He fell to his knees and tried to shut his eyes to stave off the effects when an unseen hand pulled him from the mist of poison onto one of the soft red carpets, his head still throbbing.

“Thanks, Rita. I…”

Then he recognized the sound in the distance as muffled, incoherent cursing and bragging as Rita tussled with the Witch. He’d been pulled farther than he thought, and not by her. He couldn’t see who’d done it, but he knew the source of the poison by now.

Glados stood framed by the stained glass, the sunless light framing her with a multicolored halo. She tilted her head innocently and then crouched next to him, offering her hand. “There now. Peace and quiet. Let’s you and I have a little talk.”

* * *

 

Kevin followed the humanlike ‘alien’ named Penelope through the halls which weaved and wobbled under his feet. This wasn’t at all how he’d imagined his first encounter with the aliens as a whole, but then he’d never expected one of them to contact him in the form of a bird. Maybe she was just taking on shapes his human eyes could comprehend. He also didn’t think it’d get his family in trouble. “Is that big worm going to eat my parents?”

“They’re fine, I’m sure.” Penelope smoothed out her hair, showing distinctly human signs of distress with the way her head jerked back and forth. “Where is he…”

“And Craig? And his friends?” It had never occurred to Kevin that Craig’s new secret life might be a dangerous one.

“He’s fine! Or he will be if you contract.” Something about Penelope’s smile struck Kevin as feral and forced. “Where is he, that rabbit? Oh, sometimes he’s a trickster but I’m. Sure. He’ll behave. Since you’re so suitable…”

Kevin liked Penelope better as a bird. She was almost careless in her violent disposal of the little monsters showing up from time to time, and even seemed to treat the occasional emergence of the big ones as little more than a temporary annoyance. Surely this couldn’t be a common thing for her or Craig. Occasionally she muttered things about the rabbit which hardly matched her supposed reverence for him. Seeing fighting in real life was not like it had been on TV. The worms shuddered when sliced in two.

But if he Contracted he’d have to fight, wouldn’t he? Didn’t Craig?

“You…you keep saying contract.” Kevin stopped to wipe monster goo off his glasses. “What does that mean?”

Penelope stopped short. “It means…to Contract. You know, make a deal. You fight the monsters and in return you get power and wishes and everything you could want.”

“Yes, but why can’t this rabbit fight the monsters himself?”

“Because-”

“And how come none of you look alike? Are you all shapeshifters? I figured aliens would look, you know. Alien. And not at all adapted to Earth. And how come you want to fight these monsters? Are they aliens too? Are you at war with them?’

Penelope smoothed her hair out again. “It’s all complicated space science! You wouldn’t understand.”

That hit a sour note for Kevin. Why did everyone assume he wouldn’t get it? “I wish you would tell me more. I study space all the time! I’d get it. Is Craig an alien now? I mean with alien DNA? Are you from our Solar System? Europa, maybe, or Titan? Why did you come here? What are the monsters? Why would you choose me-”

“Would you SHUT UP with the questions?! It’s a Contract! It’s great! Your brother has one and you deserve it too, right? Imagine what he wished for. You’re being offered a gift and you’ve got a lot of potential so stop being ungrateful!”

Kevin stopped walking again. Something inside of him felt cold and heavy, though he refused to cry in front of Penelope. Bad enough everyone else thought him a stupid child; he wouldn’t prove them right with childishness.

‘Ask questions,’ every science book he’d ever read had told him. Astronauts needed to know science too. He knew sometimes he got on his parents’ nerves with his obsession, and he was sure Craig looked down on him for focusing so fervently on one subject instead of being a perfect academic. But Craig would never tell him not to think about something or question it. His parents definitely wouldn’t.

“I think I’m going to go find my brother now.” His voice sounded wearier than he thought he was.

As he turned to walk away, the girl in red grabbed his shoulder rough enough to pinch. “Wait! Just wait! I’ll answer questions, really!” It sounded too desperate to be true.

Kevin pulled away as forcefully as he could manage, his shoulder throbbing. She was very strong. “I don’t know who you are but I think you’re lying about being a good alien. Craig thinks I’m stupid for believing in aliens and you think I’m stupid enough to trick.”

The floor rumbled, and Penelope said a word aliens probably wouldn’t know and schoolchildren were forbidden from using. Her grin had never looked so angry and frightened. “I will explain it all later! Don’t run back to him! He didn’t tell you anything! He’s selfish and…and where is that rabbit?! Kyubey! Kyubey, come out! What are you doing?! He’s right HERE!”

For a second Kevin thought the girl showed fangs.

The enormous silver worm burst out of the floor, just six inches away from Kevin’s feet. He took off running, leg bleeding where a piece of shrapnel had scraped him and torn his jeans. It made the dash painful but he kept going, away from Penelope and the worm’s bellowing groans. Little worms nipped at his feet and curtains grabbed at him, yanking his hair at the back of his neck.

The aliens he’d trusted weren’t good aliens at all. and he was surrounded by monstrous ones. Craig lied. His friends lied by omission. Kevin couldn’t find his mom or dad, and everyone lied.

He didn’t stop running until he came to a break in the hallway system leading to a maze of stained glass ceilings and walls. His legs gave out under him and he held back tears even knowing no one else was around, looking at the scrape on his leg. It wasn’t bleeding much, but boy did it sting.

“You’ve come far, Kevin Emil Wilson. I’m glad we finally got to meet.”

The voice was soft and high-pitched like a bell. Something with warm fur brushed against his hand, and a pair of red eyes looked up at him.

“As you can see, I’m not really a rabbit. I don’t know why she calls me that. I am a genuine alien, however, and I can answer questions. My name is Kyubey.”

“Kyubey,” echoed Kevin. Kyubey jumped into his lap and Kevin found himself petting the creature’s head. It was strangely comforting.

“Kevin, you have the potential to become an oracle or a prophet if you wished it. You look to the stars. Oracles are those who seek the truth, the heavens or the future. Do you wish to have the answers? Do you wish for freedom of exploration?”

“…First,” Kevin said as he stood back up, “I have a few questions. Okay?”

* * *

Craig had no desire to talk with the person trying to recruit his brother. He summoned his hammer immediately, and Glados only smiled in response. She raised her staff.

“Oh, is that your plan? Chell must be rubbing off of you. She has space magic and can charm people into being her followers. You think if she’s never defeated me in combat, you can?” Immediately the smoke started to circle around them again. “And we’re in a Labyrinth. And I think you have a few questions. You’re a thinker, Wilson, not a fighter.”

Craig didn’t lower his weapon, but he was starting to feel dizzy again. A close-combat specialist against a magical girl with incredible range? One at least on Chell’s level? Did he really stand a chance? He’d barely been Contracted for a few weeks at most.

“The truth is, I almost have respect for you. Chell’s destructive and her little boyfriend or…whatever survives only by acts of chance or mercy. But you, you…no, that’s not true. Here’s the thing about the intelligent ones, if they don’t learn any better. You think through every action to its natural conclusion. For a Magi, this means you know just how bad things can be. It’d be perfect if you could learn to be selfish, but you’re not. You have attachments. And now that’s going to kill you.” She smiled. “Why are you hesitating?’

Craig’s arm wouldn’t move, and he doubted it was the poison. “You have a very disturbing view of interpersonal relationships. Why Kevin? Don’t you get enough recruits? Don’t enough of us get killed by this?! We’re all scared and desperate…”

“You’re right.” The wall of magic rose around the both of them, obscuring the Labyrinth and giving the impression of stormclouds. “A small expenditure of magic. It’ll keep the Witches at bay. That brother of yours, he’s really nothing special even if he does have the potential to become an oracle with the right wish. They’re rare nowadays, though in the past you had Cassandra, Da Vinci, your seers and prophets.”

“…Wait. Da Vinci was…Kevin’s not a…he’s going to be an astronaut.” Hot tears stung Craig’s eyes. “That’s all he’ll wish for. That’s what he wants. You’re wasting your time.”

“Star magic, maybe. But you’re right, he’s not my only target. There’s also you.”

“…Me.” Craig’s Soul Gem detected no lie.

“You.” Her voice was unsettlingly calm, her entire form regal and delicate against a background of her own toxic storm. “Chell is lost to me now. She’s well on her way to becoming a new Queen, as I’m sure you’ve started to figure out. The boy in blue doesn’t have much longer.”

“Fact: she’s nothing like you! And what do you mean by that…?”

“But you.” Glados tolerated no interruptions, rapping her staff on the ground. “You’re a pragmatist. A truth-seeker, I must assume, or you wouldn’t have that lie-detecting magic. I am too.”

“You lie all the time to everyone.” Craig’s lungs still burned, making talking difficult. He reminded himself that he couldn’t die of poison or asphyxiation with his new ghoulish nature, though he wondered if he could burn out his magic just keeping himself alive.

“Well, yes. I’m more flexible. One has to be to live forever. But I’m sure you’ve already learned to compromise here and there. Be honest with me, Craig Wilson.”

The term ‘liar’ spoken in Kevin’s hurt voice echoed in Craig’s mind, but he held his tongue.

“I mean I’d be happy with either one of you. I’m sure I won’t get both, will I? He’d be an innocent student I could train, determined to save others from the fate that claimed his poor brother. And you, you’re a skillful analyst. She needs you,and you need Kevin to be safe. So how about it? If you agree to help me I can call this all off. Have my magicians slay the Witches-oh, they’re a dual Witch, by the way. Fascinating, relatively rare phenomenon of which I can tell you more if you join me. And I’ll ensure your brother just thinks this was a dream. I can’t stop Kyubey from recruiting him, of course. But I’d leave him alone.”

Oh, of course. It was to get to him. If she was lying about leaving Kevin alone, she was doing it in such a way that Craig’s gem couldn’t tell the difference. He shuddered involuntarily. He had to doubt that Chell and Wheatley could keep Kevin hidden in these circumstances, and even if they protected Kevin the younger boy would have questions. He tried to imagine the Witch he’d become, attacking his own parents.

But these were his friends and she, she was a monster for even trying this. For trying to reduce Craig and Kevin to servants. She couldn’t be who he thought she was, could she?

“…Why?”

Glados’s white-blond eyebrows raised. “Why what? I already told you I’m trying to get one of you to my side. Besides, Chell would hate it.”

“No. I mean why all this? The Court, the treating other Magi like tools and guinea pigs, demanding Grief Seeds like some kind of mob boss. Sacrificing your own allies and…using Witches as weapons! You were a hero once, right?”

“…What are you talking about?” The unease in her voice suggested Craig was onto something. Good. Get as much information as he can get out of her, he figured, until he thinks of a plan or one of the others catches up.

“The earthquake all those years ago. The one magical girl who took it down alone, the one people still talk about on the message boards. That was you, wasn’t it? You’re a legend. But now you’re…” It was a wild guess, but he’d had a growing hunch for a long time.

From the way her eyes widened he sensed he’d hit a target. The way the black clouds roiled left him wondering if this was a good thing. But she couldn’t lie to him and she knew it.

“I was naive. I didn’t realize the destiny I’d inherit by defeating the Fire Worm Witch. And I did not do it alone. If they don’t even remember…” She looked away from him.

“…So it was you then. Why? You’d have everyone’s favor for decades if they knew. If you weren’t…”

“If I smiled and played princess savior and pretended to be happy, right? That’s what you mean. If I lied and claimed I had a pure heart which loved everyone in the whole world or some drippy nonsense like that. We’re allowed to cry through our suffering so others will pity us or accept it so we inspire, but God forbid we get angry.” Her voice was ice cold and her eyes glared through Craig, but she did not lie. “I don’t want to be adored for what I’m not anymore. And I couldn’t have stayed Caroline Glades, the angelic magical princess, and lived as long as I have. I wouldn’t have lasted a year.”

Craig stared, just barely detecting a tremor beneath his feet. “…Caroline? Isn’t that the name of-”

“There’s more than one person named Caroline on the planet,” she snapped. “If you’re referring to the one Chell took away from me, it so happens she was one of my best scientific minds. She was so close to finding a solution but she put her faith in someone who disappointed her, and that’s exactly what’s going to happen to you too if you stay with Chell. It’ll be a waste.”

His Gem flashed. Whatever had happened to the other Caroline, she’d lied about it.

“Now then. Will you consider my offer now that I’ve gone and given you my dropped birth name? It means nothing to me but sentimental value. It’s useless to you. But I could give you so much more information and we could work together to save everyone as soon as you’re done playing noble rebellion.”

“…So you can squeeze me dry and burn me out like a candle. Is that what happened with the other Caroline?”

“I told you! It was Chell’s fault. Granted it is a risk that you’ll burn yourself out in the end, though please tell me how Chell’s going to spare you from a Magi’s fate. But your brother would be safer. I wouldn’t recruit him or even let him in. We can do a better job protecting him than Chell, because we’re ruthless and pragmatic. I mean she won’t even kill me, when she’s perfectly capable of—?!”

A shattering sound interrupted her speech and she froze as Craig realized what he’d done. He had not given himself time to consider the situation, knowing he’d recoil at the thought of it. He did so now, lowering the hand which had sent the shockwave at her and covering his mouth. The white gem on her forehead tiara bore an ugly crack in the middle and a chunk of it fell to the floor with a soft tinkle. Her eyes went dull for a moment and he waited for her to fall lifeless, all the while ignoring the voice inside saying ‘I just killed someone. She saved a whole city once and I killed her to save one person. I killed someone…’

Then her hand rose to her forehead, wiping the rest of the gem away and revealing a bruise with a trickle of blood running from it. The blank stare, Craig realized, was mere astonishment. His stomach churned. What was she?

“You should be…”

“If that had been my Soul Gem, yes. That would have killed me. I forgot I had this thing as part of my battle costume.” She snuck out a white-shoed foot to step on one of the jewel pieces. “It’s a test of loyalty. Rather easy to break, really. I leave myself with a big target and if anyone in my service tries to use it, I get rid of them. I told you I’m a pragmatist.” She laughed, low and deep in a way that didn’t suit her apparent age. “In a way this changes my view of you. On the one hand, I think I respect you more now that you’ve attempted to do what Chell lacks the guts to try. Maybe you’re one of the few people to become rational with fear and stress. On the other, seeing you fall for such a simplistic trick makes me wonder if I really want you on my side. Did you really think I’d wear my Soul Gem somewhere so obvious?”

The smog cloud lifted immediately, and Glados whistled. “Well, I’ll leave you to your decision. Oh, and I’d watch that Gem of yours in the meantime. It’s not looking so good.” Her form melted away into a green-black cloud and flew off mere seconds before the ground beneath her erupted, the silver worm looming over Craig with Rita nowhere to be seen.

* * *

“Are you ready to make a wish?”

Kevin squeezed the catlike creature for comfort. He was warm and soft. “Not really. I mean, I used to figure if I could have anything I ever wanted, I’d wish to be an astronaut. Go to Mars or something. But now I’m not so sure…”

“I’m not allowed to tell you what to wish for. It has to be your decision.” Kyubey flicked his tail. “But I suggest you decide soon. This place is dangerous.”

“What is it? This thing?”

“This is a Witch. And if you can’t fight it off soon, it will surely devour your parents. So-”

A hole made of seemingly nothing tore itself into existence in front of Kevin, ringed with orange light. A tan-colored hand reached out before he could react and snatched Kyubey right through it.

“Hey!” The hole vanished as Kevin reached for it. “Who did that?! I-I was talking to him!”

A girl with brown-black hair in a ponytail walked out from behind a pillar of glass. She wore a frayed orange dress and had a hand firmly clamped over Kyubey’s face. In seconds she dropped Kyubey to the floor and glared at him as he ran off like a scared cat.

Kevin recognized her as the least talkative of Craig’s friends, though it did little to assuage his anger. “Why’d you do that?! I was talking to him! He was going to answer questions…” He didn’t try to hide the tears this time, though they ran over the bottom rim of his glasses. He was so tired of the rug being pulled out from under him. He wanted to wake up and forget all about aliens.

Chell hesitated when she saw his face and Kevin thought he saw signs of guilt in her expression, but she didn’t relent. She set a hand on Kevin’s shoulder, gentler than Penelope had done. “He lies.”

“Everyone lies.” Kevin’s voice caught.

Chell bit her lip, glancing down one of the hallways. “I know.”

“Are my parents okay?”

Chell was only a little taller than Kevin but bent down to face him anyway. “They’re fine. Wheatley’s back there and he has a barrier up. He’s good at barriers. Everyone’s doing their best.”

“My brother…”

“He loves you.”

“I know.” Kevin paused to dry his glasses, hands shaking. “I yelled at him and now he might get eaten by a monster…” He looked away and Chell’s hand fell to her side.

“…Do you want me to answer a question?”

“You won’t lie?”

The corners of Chell’s mouth turned up in the slightest of smiles. “I’m a terrible liar.”

“Why doesn’t Craig want me to Contract? Why can’t I fight with him? He doesn’t have to keep it a secret. If it’s scary, it’ll be less so if we do it together. I was in the hospital for so long, and it’s been forever since we did anything together…”

The older girl took a deep breath, hand moving to touch the winged orange gem pinned to her chest. “Because you’ll die.”

“I won’t die. I’ll be good at this.”

“No. If you Contract, you seal your fate. That’s how it is for everyone. And Craig wished to save your life.”

“…He did?!” It all made sense in a horrible way. It had been aliens who had cured Kevin after all, not long after he’d accepted he might not live through the year. But it was also the work of Craig. And Craig…

“I need to see him!”

Chell shook her head. “Please come back with me. Stay safe. For his sake.”

But Kevin wasn’t listening. He heard a distant rumble and thought he saw a huge, elongated shape battling a cloaked, flying form through the glass. She saw it too, and grabbed Kevin’s shoulders again. “Please.”

“…Are you going to help him?”

“I’m going to protect you. It’s what he was afraid to do, because he thought he’d draw Kyubey to you.”

“No! No, I’m not going anywhere safe if he’s dying!” Kevin broke away from Chell again and pressed his face against the glass, starting to make out a better picture. “I have to see him…!”

* * *

 

Glados had called it a dual Witch, and Craig was putting it all together as he fought the silver one. That would explain why one half of the Labyrinth looked entirely different from the other, though they were clearly part of the same pocket dimension. They must have had strong ties in life to end up that way; maybe one ‘went’ just before the other.

“It isn’t you, is it? Please tell me it’s not you…no, you can’t tell me anymore.” Craig swung his hammer at the worm as it snapped at him, knocking it back with a powerful blow. “But it is, isn’t it?”

He’d given his phone number to the twins he’d run into in Alice’s Labyrinth, the ones clad in gold and silver, in case they needed help. They’d never called it. They’d looked so heartbroken at the death of their friend in the dark purple. Maybe it was a matter of time. He remembered one suggesting they were older than they looked, but dammit, they looked about the same age as Kevin…

“Fact: she’s won already, hasn’t she? She knows it. She figured she’d make that offer to me as an insult to Chell, but it doesn’t matter. Fact: Kevin’s going to Contract and he’s going to die. Fact: if Kevin contracts, I…” The worm slammed him into the ground with its head, grabbing him with its mouth and flinging him against a wall. The thing had no teeth, but that didn’t mean the impact hurt any less. He slumped against the glass window, and there he saw a silhouette he’d recognize anywhere.

“…Kevin. Or-or maybe you’re Penelope, but I don’t think she can turn into other people. Listen, I…”

“Craig?!” The voice was muffled, but it was his. Kevin pressed his hands against the frosted glass. The Witch heard him too and reared back, rushing in to charge past Craig and through to Kevin.

“FORGET IT.” Craig swung his hammer with all the might he could manage and all the gravitational force he could conjure up, smashing the Witch right in the nose and sending it slamming against the walls of the chamber this time. He felt drained and woozy immediately after, his vision growing hazy and strange whispers reaching his ears, and slumped against the glass to look at Kevin.

“Kevin, you should run. This Witch is gonna wake up again in a second. And if I don’t…I’m going to…”

“No! No, please! Get out of there, Craig!” Kevin pounded on the glass.

“It’s my fault. If I had told you, maybe you’d still…maybe you’d Contract or maybe you wouldn’t, but you wouldn’t die thinking I don’t…”

“I know! I know, I’m sorry! You won’t die! Come on, say it! Say that stupid fact thing! Fact: you won’t die!”

Craig closed his eyes, reaching for the clasp on his hood. He didn’t have Rita around, but he felt he had enough strength to do the deed himself. Glados wouldn’t win completely. He wouldn’t turn into the Witch who devoured his brother and family. “Kevin…listen.”

“Craig? What are you doing?!” Kevin kept pounding on the glass. As much as Craig hated himself for it, he was glad he’d get to at least talk to Kevin one more time. Chell, Wheatley, Rita…they’d understand, right?

“You should get out of here. You don’t want to see what’s going to happen. But I want you to know that…I want you to know that I trust you and I’m sorry if I didn’t before. You should do what you think is best. If you make a Wish, you might end up like…like your big brother. But if there’s something you want enough, maybe your dream will come true…”

Craig felt his vision clouding again and rose to his feet almost mechanically. The pounding had stopped; he hoped it meant Kevin had run or one of his friends had finally caught up and was hiding his brother. The ground rumbled, and he could tell the Witch was waking up again. “So…so, once more, then? It’s okay. I’ll put you to rest.” He set his gem down and held out his hammer, waiting for just the right moment. “Fact: enough impact should finish us both off, and then…”

The glass wall behind him shattered, revealing a brilliant yellow light reflected on the body of the Witch. Something struck him from within, a burning sensation filling his entire body in a second. He gasped in alarm as his hammer vanished from his hands, his vision clearing and the whispers vanishing entirely. Had someone purified his grief-stricken Gem without his realizing it? When had there been time?! Why had his transformation reverted? Where the hell was his Gem?!

He heard a portal open just next to him and Chell grabbed him, pulling him right through to where she stood on the other side of the shattered wall. Craig gasped for breath, looking up to Chell for answers as he was too shocked to speak himself, but she just stared wide-eyed and silent at Kevin.

Kevin was wearing a yellow-gold hood and cloak that reached to the middle of his back and a matching magician’s uniform of a vest and long slacks. He was clutching a rod which had the same swirled, ornate handle as Craig’s hammer, but it was topped with a huge, yellow tourmaline star. His hood was clasped with a glowing gem cut into the shape of another five-pointed star. His eyes were wide and shining, the light he was giving off refracting in the stained glass.

The boy looked as baffled as everyone else, but he was paying more attention to Craig than to his own magical garments or newly-formed Soul Gem.

“…My wish came true…”


	19. "It's okay. It's really okay."

“Okay, okay. We’re alright, aren’t we? Yes, we’re fine. Not at all sitting ducks. I mean, I’m here! I’m right here. With barrier magic. Got a lovely barrier here. In fact, why don’t I reinforce it again? Probably a good idea. Can never have too reinforced a barrier, I always say…”

Wheatley was pacing in front of the doorway to what had been the kitchen and was now a squarish chamber in the mansion Labyrinth. The walls shimmered with a thick layer of crystal from his barriers which click-clacked beneath his feet. As another crack started to form he covered it over with more crystal, further distorting the hallway in front of him through a warped lens of blue.

The Wilson parents were sitting blank-eyed and expressionless at a table, though here and again one of them tried to rise up and walk in a trance. “N-nooo, no, Mr. Wilson, you sit back down. Come now…” Wheatley ran over and gently but firmly shoved Craig’s father back towards the table. “I know the Witch is doing something to make it seem like you ought to go see it but I assure you, nothing good to see! Don’t want you to get eaten. Oh where’s Craig, where’s Chell, Rita, anyone? Did they find Kevin? Everything was so _nice_ and-”

A thunderous crack formed right through the barrier as worm Familiars slammed into it in a wave. He stared at it, blood draining from his face before his eyes narrowed into a glare.

“ENOUGH! Enough of that! Enough with all you lot!” He poured more magic into the crack, sealing it in time to watch worms throw themselves into the flat surface. “I’m not going to drain my Gem here like THIS and fail at even doing something bloody useful for once because of you lot. Sit down, Mrs. Wilson!” A pillar of crystal jutted out sideways next to Wheatley and gently urged the entranced woman back. “Didn’t…know I could do that. Good to know in the future. Come on, how long can it take to stop one Witch? It’s just one, isn’t it?! Where are they? I can’t…can’t I depend on them?”

He tightened his hands into fists to ease in his concentration, adding another layer. He could feel his own Gem depleting. He’d have to hunt another Witch tonight if he survived this, and that’d be one more Grief Seed he couldn’t bring to Doug.

“Why should I depend on them?” He glanced over his shoulder to the glassy, empty eyes of Mr. Wilson. “They weren’t there when I needed them. They didn’t save me. I mean I can’t exactly ignore that, you know?…No, that’s nonsense. I’m stressed.” He put a hand to his temples. “I’m fine. It’s just endurance. I endured having a Witch torture me, this is nothing, right?”

The entire room shook as something massive slammed into the crystal and drew back, nearly knocking Wheatley off of his feet.

“Bollocks! What-what was that? Was that the Witch? Is it here?! They were supposed to take care of it and I protected the parents! That was the deal! I thought, anyway…a-and Chell would go get Kevin and put him somewhere safe, since we rather mucked that up. But still!”

“Yo! Harry Potter!” The voice was a bit hard to hear through the barrier, but the accent was unmistakable.

“Would you bloody stop calling me that?!…Wait, Rita! That’s you, isn’t it? Good! Excellent. So please kill that Witch.”

Another impact shook the room, and Wheatley noticed tiny, sharp crystals growing out of the cracks. He hadn’t realized he was doing that. He could make out a flash of green atop the worm-Witch, though there was a discoloration to it. Hadn’t it been silver? It was so difficult to tell through the blue tint.

He focused again, and then stared. “Are…are you riding that bloody thing?”

“Tryin’! I almost got this.” The Worm bucked upwards, smashing poor Rita into the ceiling and leaving her looking even more bedraggled. But he could indeed see her having hooked her chain into the Witch’s mouth. “Yeah, look at him! Her. Whatever. Strugglin’.”

“M-man alive…where’s Craig? And Chell? Did you…did you happen to see Kevin?”

“Kinda got separated from Craig and I ain’t seen Chell. Weren’t you two supposed to have Kevin in there?”

Wheatley turned a bit red with shame. “He’s awfully good at slipping away. Could you hurry up and beat that Witch you’ve got such a hold on?!” The crystal spikes were increasing, sprouting in bursts around the edge of the barrier. Odd, that. “Bloody Craig running off to play hero while we have to keep his family safe. They’re a nice family! What’s he even thinking?!”

“Eh, ease off, he’s under-” Rita was interrupted as the monster slammed her into a wall. She was still holding on, though blood was trickling from her forehead. Wheatley felt a touch of guilt for his previous distaste for her. She was genuinely taking a beating trying to protect him. Well, he and the Wilsons.

“Are you alright out there?! I can’t…sorry, but I have to stay here! You know, shields and all that! Can’t let the nice folks get eaten.”

“Don’t worry about it…I almost got this.” Rita sounded woozy, though she was strong enough still to send a shock of lightning through the chain. “Hey! I got it. Do that thing!”

“That thing? What thing?”

“That thing you did, Potter!”

Wheatley gritted his teeth and tried to remind himself that Rita was holding a Witch back singlehandedly. “I sort of am doing my thing, Rita. Hate to tell you this if you haven’t noticed it yet but I really sort of have one thing and you’re looking at it.”

“No, no! The thing you did when I fought Alice! You made me feel invincible. Could use that now! Uh, not that I need help but it wouldn’t hurt. Be a good plan.”

Oh, that thing. Wheatley bit his lip. “A-alright! Alright, sure, let me try…” He clasped his hands together and lowered his head. Hadn’t that been what he’d done? He could barely remember. One deep breath and then another, and he concentrated…

Nothing. He tried once more, hands shaking under his chin, and nothing happened. His eyes snapped open. “I-I can’t!”

“…Whaddya mean you can’t?-OW! Dangit, I know you’re a ghost and all, Miss Witch, but I still have half a mind to-”

“I don’t know!” Wheatley unclasped his hands and stared down at himself. “I have no idea why I can’t do it. It wasn’t hard last time, just sort of did it…probably got too much energy poured into the barriers.” But that had been something special he’d done, special enough that Craig told him to practice it! Why hadn’t he? Why couldn’t he do it now?

He heard Rita laugh. “Hey, even better! Good idea, Potter. Just gimme a minute…”

“Wait. Wait, what’s a good idea? What did I do that you’re happy about?” He turned back to Rita only to realize that the image of her was far more distorted than usual. The crystal spikes had bloomed into a veritable garden on both sides of the glass wall, some jutting out on the opposite end like daggers. Rita reared the Witch back seconds before it charged into a wall of crystalline knives.

* * *

 

Chell helped Craig back to his feet, supporting him with her shoulder. He watched with vision blurred by tears as Kevin, gripping a rod topped with a golden crystal star, tried to say something and then shook his head. Instead the younger brother manifested a pair of yellow energy wings and rose from the ground, his gold cape floating behind him. The ruins of the stained glass shimmered in the light as Kevin flew at the Witch, the creature quickly recovering.

Craig tried to run after his brother but Chell’s grip was too strong, and he himself just too drained to keep up. “You…Kevin, why…” Words dried up in his throat. He kept grasping at his chest for the pin that would have been his Soul Gem, and then stared at his ring-less finger. “I thought…the Contract was…”

"The Contract is not so powerful it can’t be overwritten by another Wish." Was that Kyubey behind him? Craig couldn’t bear to look, though he felt Chell tense up. "I didn’t expect this outcome at all. It is not, however, unprecedented."

"How could you let him—!" Craig knew he was shaking, and tried again to break from Chell’s grasp. She let him go for a second, watching him carefully, but Kyubey had already run towards the Witch where he seemed to be observing Kevin’s first fight.

"I’m going to help him," Chell whispered. "I’ll open a portal to where Wheatley is. You should be safer there."

"No! No. I…" Craig took a deep breath. His tears would do her no good. The situation didn’t even feel real to him yet. "I have to make sure he’s going to be okay. I’ll be fine…honest."

She looked at him for a long moment, then gave him a tight hug-the first he’d had from anyone who wasn’t family in quite some time. In another moment she was off to provide support for Kevin. The part of Craig’s mind that held onto logic to keep himself above water knew Chell would be of more use helping Kevin than she could be anywhere else at the moment. Chell, with her support and experience, was the best ally anyone could have.

Kevin being able to fly was no surprise. If his wish was what Craig guessed it to be-and please let it not be, please!-it would make sense for the younger brother to have inherited some of the elder’s powers. Their outfits were certainly alike. It only made sense.

He sat back down, hoping his grief wouldn’t attract the attentions of the hungry Witch, and watched the fight. There was nothing else he could do.

Kevin didn’t know exactly how he was able to fight. Maybe magic, or sufficiently advanced alien technology, just worked that way. He could throw energy bolts from his wand that soared downwards like shooting stars, though his accuracy needed some work. So far he’d managed to distract the big monster more than do much damage to it.

But he was flying! He, Kevin, who everyone treated like a fragile glass ornament could fly. He’d changed. Something inside of him felt stronger, moreso than his Wish-induced recovery from his condition. It was as if light burned inside of his body. Was that the light which would turn him into a monster himself someday?

But Craig! Craig would not become a monster, he reminded himself. That was everything.

"Chell, right?" The quiet girl in orange was running around below him, signaling for him to land. He did so, though somewhat ungracefully, tripping over his own toes and catching himself before he fell. "I’m…uh, I’m sorry," he added as he looked up at her. "I know none of you wanted me to make a Wish. But I’m, I-"

Chell held a finger to his lips and shook her head. “Watch,” she said as she held up a hand. One of her shimmering portals appeared, the same kind she’d tried to hide Kevin in before. Did she just want him to hide again, even now?!

"What?! No! No, I’m not going anywhere. I’m sorry. I know I’m being stupid. But I…took this on and Craig needs me to stop being a baby and save Mom and Dad! Because he…" Kevin couldn’t say the rest of it. Because Craig no longer could. Kevin had taken that from him. Craig would hate him for it; that much was certain.

Chell stared at him for a moment and looked perplexed before she fired a shot from her gun into the portal. It rippled as the blast of light traveled through it and out another hole in reality, hitting the wormy Witch directly from above. Kevin snapped his fingers as he got it.

"Oh! Sorry. And I’m sorry for yelling in the middle of dinner. Usually got better table manners than that." He spun his staff in his hand like a baton and started charging power into it, generating a sizable shooting star trapped inside the yellow crystal. "That said, I’d rather learn how to aim on my own, so…one big shot to finish it off? Like a-"

"Video game boss?" Chell actually smiled at that, ruffling his hair. "Alright. I should let people learn on their own sometimes…so on a count of three." She readied her gun as another series of portals opened up around the monster. It seemed she could make more than two at a time. "One, two…"

"Three!" Kevin swung his staff like a bat and sent the shooting star blasting forward, then covered his eyes from the resulting blinding light.

* * *

Labyrinths stretched past the limits of the physical world. When the Labyrinth of the Twin Witches dissolved it left Kevin, Chell and Craig back in the kitchen, the Wilson apartment looking no worse for wear. A wide-eyed Wheatley, breathing heavily, stared at them from the doorway to the dining room. The adult Wilsons were asleep, but their slow breathing revealed they’d not fallen victim to the Witches.

Rita wandered in, looking rather worse for wear but casually brushing herself off. “I gotta hand it to Potter here! Didn’t think you could handle that kind of thing. Hey Chell,” she added casually. “How’d the thing with…Kevin…go. Oh.” Her cocky grin fell right off as she saw what Kevin was wearing. “Oh. Crap, sorry. Uh…"

Chell whispered to Kevin so he’d know how to reverse his transformation. She could tell already he had more of an independent streak than Wheatley or even Craig had, and Rita’s warnings about treating people like charity cases still echoed in her mind.

“Wait, but…” Wheatley voiced the confusion, switching off his own transformation. “You…you weren’t supposed to do that. Sort of throwing off our plan here, mate! I mean after all that time we told you not to-we…did tell you not to, right? I mean, did that ever actually come up?” He turned a bit red. Chell thought he looked more shocked and unnerved than angry, and she noticed bags under his eyes. Whether or not his cheer during the dinner party had been genuine, it had apparently all washed away during the attack. “Well…I’ll not run my mouth because this isn’t really about me, is it? Craig, Kevin, what happened? We were really bloody worried about you! Both of you. Though first I guess we’ll have to figure out how to divide one Grief Seed-”

“Two, actually.” She held up the silver-lined Grief Seed, identical save for color to the gold-filigreed one Wheatley toyed with.

“Oh…oh! Two, of course. Right. Well, that’s not too bad. But two among five, now…” He started frowning and wrinkling his brow as if trying to do math in his head. It was the otherwise silent Craig who interrupted him, his voice soft and distracted.

“Fact: four. You only need to divide it among four. So half for each. It works out fine.” He wasn’t looking anyone in the eye, and Chell saw Kevin wince with guilt. She felt a bit sick herself. Craig just sounded so defeated.

Wheatley snapped. “Oh, four!…wait, four?” His blue eyes widened as he stared right at Craig. All other gazes followed his own, save Kevin’s. After all, Craig had exited the Labyrinth without having to change back.

For a moment Chell considered forcibly changing the subject to take the pressure off the uncomfortable ex-Magi, and let him explain things when he was ready. He, however, managed a smile. Smiles were rare for him when he was genuinely happy; being able to force one when he was clearly upset had to be a Herculean effort for him. “It’s okay. It’s really okay. This is the best possible way this could have worked out. I was going to become a Witch otherwise. I was given a second chance that deserving people like Alice and the twins never got. It turns out I was the one who couldn’t cut it. Glados was right.” Craig’s composure started to crack. It was subtle, the halting tone of his voice. “So because of that, because I failed Kevin…”

“Stop!” Kevin’s shout was so sudden and piercing Chell was surprised it didn’t wake their parents. “Please stop! This all happened because of me. I liked feeling important. LIke-” He trembled. “Like I’d be the one aliens would contact. You read all those stories about people who meet aliens, and they’re living in the middle of nowhere. They’re lonely and bored and then amazing things happen to them. I know those stories are probably fake, I mean, I’m not as flaky as everyone thinks I am…but it just made me think. You’re smart and healthy and you’re a class president. Everyone’s so proud of you. I haven’t even been to school in forever and-and I don’t know anybody. So I…”

It seemed as if it was difficult for him to keep talking, but he did, and the others didn’t interrupt. “So I listened to that evil bird because she seemed to see me as special. Not just Craig’s little brother or some sick kid. Me! And-and she was lying and you just wanted to protect me. I didn’t know you were having a bad time! I didn’t know you were gonna die…!”

“But now you’re going to die! Again!” Craig’s smile was completely gone, and he looked to be fighting back tears as well. “Not right now, but someday-”

“Someday I would have died anyway, right? Everybody does. Like I said, everyone’s proud of you, and you do all this cool stuff already-why do you think you don’t deserve to live, huh? I’m still going to live in the meantime.” He wiped his eyes and lowered the volume of his voice. “And-and I’ll get to do amazing things in the meantime, too. So you can help people with your smarts and your-your being level-headed and having friends, and stuff. And I can help this way, right? You don’t have to do everything, stupid. I couldn’t go off being an astronaut knowing you died because of me. I already know you love me enough to-to die for me. I can’t ask you to do that, that would be-”

Kevin fell quiet as Craig hugged him. His words dissolved into sobs. Chell took a step back, feeling intrusive just watching and not knowing what else to say.

“Y’all probably need to talk this out.” Rita directed that at Craig and Kevin, but she gave Chell a pointed ‘stop staring’ look and gestured towards the doorway. “We should get back. Your folks probably won’t remember what happened; just say there was a kitchen fire or something and thank ‘em for the food for us. It was-uh, it was nice,” she added.

“Um, I will, uh…” Craig was unable to find his own words for once.

“Call,” Chell suggested. “E-mail. Take some time. Keep an eye out in case the Court tries anything else.” There were no signs of Glados or Penelope anywhere in the apartment at any rate.

“Talk,” Rita repeated. “To each other. And no take backs.”

“A-are you sure, um. I can stay around if you need me to, mate! Stick around and help you, oh, do the dishes or talk about the-the whole thing or…oh, okay! Okay!” Wheatley stopped protesting when Rita started to drag him out the door by the arm.

“We’ll be okay,” Craig whispered. “I think. I’ll see you in class tomorrow, Wheatley. Thanks for-…uh, thanks, guys. For coming over.”

“I’m sorry dinner got weird,” Kevin added. He was apparently a messier cryer, his shirt rather stained with tears. “You should come over again sometime and we can do things that aren’t…this. They’re opening a planetarium in the spring.”

“In March,” Craig added. “Fact: You’d better all be there then…”

Chell caught his double meaning and offered a solemn nod of understanding. Craig was a normal human again; he was now the one most likely to live to adulthood. Which meant that keeping Kevin alive was not just her responsibility now. It was her duty to him as his friend.

* * *

“Please! Please don’t punish me, Glados! It’s not my fault!” Penelope stood before Glados in their hotel suite, sobbing messily as the white-haired girl watched her from the bed. Glados made a point not to move; she wanted to see how much Penelope was willing to grovel. “It was that awful Kyubey! He made a fool of me. In front of a kid! I thought he’d appear at the right time. And then I…I couldn’t deal with that stupid kid’s questions! He was a little brat. I hope Chell gets him killed! I hope he turns into a stupid Witch. But-”

“You cost me an oracle. Though I suspect he won’t become an oracle in this case. Having the potential to make that sort of wish, as Kyubey suggested, doesn’t mean he made the right one for that sort of power. So nobody gets an oracle. We can call it a wash, I suppose.” Glados stroked Kyubey, keeping her voice as level as possible.  
  
Penelope’s hair was a mess, falling all around her face. “Please, Glados! I can’t take it anymore. I need a Grief Seed. You have a spare, right? I brought you one earlier. Alex did, too…give me the one Alex was going to have! He’s fine! You aren’t going to deny me now, are you? Are you!?” She was trembling in fear; Glados could see the red draining from the Gem in her ring.

In the corner of her eye, Glados saw a curtain ruffle. Alex had been watching, despite her request to leave her alone for Penelope’s ‘evaluation.’ Still, she didn’t bring attention to it. She was sure whatever punishment she could offer couldn’t match what he’d just overheard.

“Well, why don’t we ask the Incubator himself about his strange behavior? Kyubey, why didn’t you meet up with Kevin at a time that would have let us recruit him more easily? We almost had him, but your failure to show up at the proper time put a wedge in things. Aren’t you the least bit frustrated that you lost a Magi as a result?” She stopped in mid-pet to grasp at his fur. She knew he felt pain on some level.

“It isn’t the first time such a wish has been made. Technically it’s a wash for me, because even if I can’t obtain energy from one of the brothers, I have the other Contracted now. The older one will just die a natural death sooner or later. It is a shame for the younger’s sake that he won’t become an oracle, but that was a choice he made.” Kyubey looked up at her with inexpressive red eyes and his own permanent smile. “I don’t care much about the faux politics you play against each other. I understand them on a fundamental level, but they don’t concern me. So don’t try to use me as a tool for your silly game.”

Glados lifted him with practiced swiftness, whipping his body against the wall and hearing the snap of his neck. The lifeless Kyubey slid to the ground and Glados wiped her hands on her lap, turning to Penelope and offering the warmest smile she could manage. She opened her arms in an embrace.

“There, see? It was all his fault, like I said. I’m a very reasonable leader. I wouldn’t leave you in the dust over one little mistake.”

Penelope trembled once more, and then fell sobbing into Glados’s lap. The White Queen reached into a basket and pulled out a Grief Seed, pressing it into Penelope’s hand and stroking her hair with the other. “See? I take good care of my servants. I know you’re not like Chell or Rita. You won’t abandon me or try to kill me. When the time comes, I know you won’t let me down.” There was a hint of truth to those words, though Glados had long learned to suppress her bile when dealing with Penelope’s sorts. They always came along. Bullies were cowards, which was why it was always useful to have one around.

Besides, she had destroyed Chell’s walking lie detector, who among them was still the only one with guts enough to try to kill her. She doubted the younger would be much of a substitute. Chell had failed to stop a Contract, and her snoop Craig would have to watch Kevin die before him. So there was that. They had nothing to gain from knowing her past; the hero Caroline Glades was dead, after all. It was a relief in a way, telling someone and helping destroy their sense of hope with it. One had to take the little victories when negativity was the enemy.

Kyubey reappeared in as few minutes as she expected, sitting on Glados’s shoulder. Penelope had fallen asleep, and if Alex was still in the room he was too ashamed to reveal it. “Glados,” Kyubey said, “I’m surprised you forgave her. She did fail her mission spectacularly. I’ve seen you let courtiers turn into Witches for less. Are you growing soft?”

She smiled at the little creature, fur just a shade whiter than her own hair. “I see why you waited so long. You wanted to humiliate her in my eyes so her fear of me and desire to stay in good standing with me would turn her into a Witch. So you could collect and I’d be out a berserker.”

“Am I that transparent?”  
  
“I figured it out as Penelope told me the story. I’ve known you for a long, long time, after all.” The smile stayed, as insincere as ever. “Don’t try to use me as a tool in your silly game, Incubator.”

* * *

 

“Why don’t you walk Wheatley back to his place?” Rita made the suggestion and Chell almost jumped, jolted from her thoughts. She’d been so busy chewing over what had happened that she’d been zoning out, examining the sidewalk in front of her.

Looking up at her friend and then towards Wheatley, who was already halfway down the block, she wrinkled her nose in confusion. “Are you sure? I don’t think he lives far. And that’d mean you’d be by yourself.”

“Look, I know you worry about me because I’ve captured your heart along with everyone else’s. But I’m fine. I’m the Adventure Girl!” Rita laughed with her hands on her hips, but the grin vanished in a second and she leaned to whisper in Chell’s ear. “I’m just sayin’, the guy’s got that look in his eyes. I noticed it in the fight today. He’s good at disguising it by being his happy idiot self, but it’s…stress, I guess.”

“…Look in his eyes?” Chell bit her lip.

“Well, he is kind of lovesick over you, right? Might just be that. Never been lovesick.” Rita chuckled again, though it sounded less genuine. “Honest. But I’ll be serious here. When magical girls or boys start gettin’ all jittery, it’s…just go.” She shoved Chell forwards with the back of her hand.

Chell signed, nodding to Rita and jogging to catch up to Wheatley. She thought it best not to surprise him, especially if what Rita was suggesting was the case. It couldn’t have been, could it? It was Wheatley. He was innocent, but he’d been smiling all through the meal. Sure his mood had soured entirely when the Witches attacked, but who could blame him? Everything had gone wrong.

She cleared her throat as she approached. “Hey.”

Wheatley had been walking with hands in pockets, looking rather exhausted. He looked around and then over his shoulder, and smiled when he saw Chell. “Oh, hello! There you are. Walking this way, then? I can show you our flat! Apartment, whatever they call it here. I mean not inside, because I don’t think bringing a girl upstairs right now would be such a good idea. No offense! And I-” He turned a bit red in the dim street light. “I don’t want to imply the wrong thing for you or anything! I mean show you the building! Which is boring. And ugly. But quite nice in its own way! Only ugly on the outside. Nice on the inside. Has a lobby and you press a code to enter. Very old fashioned. Vintage, I’ll bet.”

That was the old Wheatley she knew, Chell reassured herself, though she spotted the dark circles under his eyes. Maybe he just snapped at her earlier out of temporary stress. In her mind, she tried to dig up her last few memories of Caroline. Yet in all of them, Caroline was smiling. Sometimes Chell would catch a glimpse of weariness or sorrow, but it would vanish like melting snowflakes in Caroline’s serenity. What were the warning signs? How would she know?

“You alright? Kind of gawking a bit. Am-am I sounding foolish? Guess I am. It’s just a building.” Wheatley tugged at the bottom of his blue jacket. “Awful though, wasn’t it? I mean not completely awful, how things turned out. Good for Craig. Except bad, because he doesn’t have his magic anymore and Kevin is now in the same pile of muck we’re in. Which is exactly what we wanted to prevent.” He bit his lip before continuing. “But! But on the upside, Craig’s not going to become a Witch. There’s that! Never become a Witch, that Craig. He got out of it. We figured out how to get out of it! Just have someone make a Wish and throw themselves into it for you! Ha ha…no, that’s awful.” He shuddered.

“It’s not your fault,” Chell insisted.

“No, of course not! Only failed my one job to keep Kevin from bloody running off like that. Not my fault at all.” Wheatley glared down at his own feet. “Surprised Craig doesn’t hate me. Maybe he does and he’s just not showing it. Kind of like how he doesn’t show when he’s happy but you can tell. Am I making this about me? I’m making this about me. Um, but wasn’t it nice? The dinner, not everything that happened. That’s what makes it more awful, I was having so much fun! The Wilsons are all-well, to be honest, I kind of expected them to be like Craig. Which would have been fine. But artists! Did you see that swan sculpture in the hallway? Mr. Wilson made it! I can’t do anything like that, can you?”

Good. He was talking. That, Chell told herself, was a sign of normalcy. Besides, she’d forgotten how comforting it was to just let him fill the silence she left herself. It took the heavy lifting off of her in one respect. And he did have a nice voice…wait, where did that come from?   
  
“Oh, wait! You’re artistic too, I forgot! Fashion and all that. But I mean,” Wheatley continued, “they could have been clones of Craig carrying cell phones the whole time and it would have been great because…oh, man alive, it was dinner at a table. With people talking to each other! Over dinner! It was just so…”

“…Normal?” Chell hoped that was the right word to use.

“You get it too, then?” Wheatley sighed, hands back in his pockets. Something in his tone sounded less nervous and more honest, with a hint of emotional exhaustion. “Sorry, I realize I never asked you much about your home life. I don’t really have one to speak of. A home, yes. Life in there, only in the technical sense. Crumbs, I must sound so whiny dumping this on you when you’ve got enough on your shoulders and we just saw everything go all pear-shaped for poor Craig…”

“No, it’s okay. My family life’s a little messed up, too. It’s starting to get better. I just don’t talk about it much.” Chell looked over her shoulder in the direction she’d be walking home once Wheatley was back. “Rita being around has made things a little nicer, anyway. And I’m close to Mom again.”

“And your dad? Or oh, is that a bad question?”

Chell’s mouth drew into a line. “He’s sort of…”

“Bad question, right. Moving along,” Wheatley said quickly, to Chell’s relief. “It’s really alright, though. Things will get better! I have a good feeling about it.”

He smiled at that last note, and there was conviction in his gaze. Surely he couldn’t be succumbing to corruptive despair if he was holding onto optimism that tightly. Still, she was the leader. He joined because of her. She owed it to him to keep him alive.

He joined because of her. Even if he hadn’t saved her the way Kevin had Craig, and even if he’d done it for selfish reasons, it had been her inspiration.

“…Wheatley, listen. I’m sorry about…”  
  
“Hmm? Sorry about what?” He blinked at her. “Shushing me in the Labyrinth? Probably wise choice. I was getting a bit nutty there, hoo. It’s the vegetarian food. Not sure it’s good for the brain. They don’t call tempeh brain food, that’s for sure. S’fish. Fish is brain food, I mean.”

“…Leaving you hanging,” she added. This was a difficult thing to say, and her stomach tied in knots. “About…your…”

“…Oh. Oh, my-my crush! Right.” Wheatley’s cheeks reddened again, and he looked away from her gaze. “It’s really alright! I hate being pitied so I’d despise it if you decided to kiss me or whatever out of feeling bad for me. So don’t even bloody think about that. But, um, I am a little curious. What you think of-well, I know we’re friends. I’m glad we’re friends! But admittedly I don’t even know much of what you-what you think of me. Sometimes I do worry you feel sorry for me and that’s it. And then I think, well, what does it matter? What do we have, a year? Two, tops? If we’re lucky?” He still refused to look at her directly, instead staring at a patch of dirty snow. His voice was starting to tremble, and Chell felt a bit awful for bringing it up in the first place. “Got more important things to worry about. Besides, I know what you’re going to say. You’re not really into me that way, are you?”

The agreement Chell thought was on her lips vanished, and all that she could manage was a breath. She hadn’t even thought of it much. She’d pushed her thoughts of his feelings towards her to the background, convinced they were just an artifact of her glamour. She wasn’t worth crushing on. With everything that had been going on, she hadn’t even had time consider whatever feelings she might have for him. He was just Wheatley, the one she felt she had to worry about. And yet, when she tried to confirm that the only way she could see him was as a friend, it was as if her throat had dried up.

She had no idea. What sort of answer was ‘I don’t know’ in this case? Wheatley was absolutely correct; the awful truth was, they would be lucky to survive the next few years. Most of their colleagues rarely made it past a few months. That was the time for desperate love confessions or hard, honest truths. Here she was, able to provide neither. What was wrong with her?

“Well! Here we are.” Wheatley carefully stepped over a patch of ice and onto the front steps of his apartment building, an older one with the practical-but-ugly design of buildings from the 1970s. “Thanks for walking me home, anyway. Man alive, I am beat. Going to just collapse into bed tonight, eh?…W-what are you doing?”  
  
Chell had taken one of his hands and was squeezing it, looking right up at him until he had to do the same. He stared at her, blue eyes wide with shock at the intensity he must have been reading into her gaze. She had no idea how odd she must have looked to him. She could feel his pulse in his wrist, pumping blood into a body so wrapped up in the illusion of life it continued to eat and sleep despite being technically dead.

“Wheatley. Talk to me in a week. Promise me you’ll be here. In a week.”

Chell couldn’t give him an honest yes or no yet. She knew how cruel that was. At the very least, she told herself, she could give them both time. Her to sort her head out, and he something to keep himself from turning if what Rita suggested about him was correct.   
  
“…Oh. You’re unsure? That’s not a complete no, then.” He stared at her, not quite smiling but not pulling his hand away either. “That means there’s a chance at yes! Or a no. But either's better than no answer at all. Then again, I suppose if you rush it, you won't know for sure. I mean we haven't exactly known each other very long, yeah? But of course I'll be here in a week! Give me some credit. A week-well, what’s a week? Either we’ll be there or we won’t. It…are you crying?”  
  
Was she? Was that the stinging in her eyes? She’d hoped it was just the cold. Before she could stay anything else she felt arms wrap around her. He was hugging her tightly, glancing at her over his shoulder. “Um, is this alright?” he asked hesitantly. “Don’t want to-to be a creep or anything. You just looked upset and-I’m sorry if I make it harder for you. I don’t want to be a burden. I promise I won’t be, no matter what you tell me! It was just a bad night, eh? Just a bad bloody night. You’re allowed to have them too…”

“Craig trusted me with one thing,” Chell whispered. The weight of the night was finally crashing down on her. It was the hug that was doing it. It had been so unexpected, so rather unlike the generally self-absorbed Wheatley to do something like that. Somehow the shock of it was breaking down barriers she’d been setting up in her mind all evening. She was the leader; she couldn’t cry when her friends needed her to be strong. “How could he forgive me? And it’s because Glados has her damn grudge against me. She’ll hurt everyone around me to get to me. She almost killed Rita, she tortured you…” She pushed away from Wheatley slowly, taking a deep breath. “I have to confront her. I have to do it…force her into it.”  
  
“No! Wait, no, don’t do that! She’ll kill you!” Wheatley gawked at the very idea, whispering as if he expected Glados to overhear. “She’s got spies! That invisible fellow. She’ll cheat and have him stab you. Even if we all went out to confront her Court together, what if we all died? Who’d fight the Witches? At least wait for that week-that week thing. And Kevin, he’s brand new! I’m bloody terrible at fighting. Be honest here, I don’t think we’re evenly matched against her lot…!” He took a deep breath. “…Listen. I’ve been thinking…you know, nevermind. But just…I promise not to turn into a Witch in a week no matter what if you please please promise not to fight Glados before then! Even if you did a one-on-one, the stress alone would do me in for sure.”

Leave it to Wheatley to make it about his own concerns even if he was saying, in a roundabout way, that he was worried about her. Chell wiped the tears away and forced a nod. He was right; she was making decisions under extreme emotional stress. She’d discuss it all with Rita and her mother later-the confrontation, her responsibilities, her own feelings, everything. Yet somewhere in her gut she knew she had to go on the offensive against Glados. The time was drawing nearer; one week was only an arbitrary extension of time.

“Hey, it’ll be alright! I just have this feeling it’s all going to work out.” Wheatley started climbing the stairs, clearly just as shaken by what had happened as she was. She hoped she hadn’t worsened his emotional state inadvertently in her incompetent attempt to get a handle on it. “Everything’s going to be just fine! Uh, somehow. Seeya…” He shut the door to the lobby before she could say anything else, not that she would know what to say.

* * *

 

Wheatley couldn’t even describe what he felt in the elevator, other than the intense pounding of his heart in his chest. She didn’t hate him! She didn’t even not-like him. Granted she never said she like-liked him and apparently needed time to figure that out. But it meant there was something to figure out!

_Don’t even think about it, mate_ , an unpleasant voice in the back of his head warned him.  _She’s too busy being IMPORTANT to give you the time of day. She’s just letting you down nicely. Remember the mural? You’re not even important enough to be part of Doug’s visions. Why would you be part of her life as more than an object of pity?_

He stared at the blinking numbers to take his mind off of that vile little voice. “No,” he mumbled to himself, “this is good. And I can make it up to Craig! I can save Kevin. I can-I bet I can even do it before she gives me her answer. I can save everyone and they don’t even know it!” There was something gleeful about that, like knowing one was to get an important Christmas present. “I’ll just talk to Doug and see if he can’t make things go a little faster with my help. Hell, I can just drop in and help him tomorrow. He’s probably being modest about not wanting it. Can’t just play Grief Seed fetch forever…that’s pretty important, right? May not be on the mural but I’m the only one who’s gotten to bloody see it…”

And what better way would there be to prove to her his own feelings were genuine? What better love confession than for him to break down the barriers between worlds for her? He had hope now, hope enough to keep his Gem from darkening. And that way, if she did turn him down, it wouldn’t matter. Because by then, Doug’s Goddess would have freed everyone from the Contract anyway. He’d have saved not only her, but every Puella and Puer Magi alive. Glados would be easy pickings without her powers. And he’d be the most important one of them all, because he would have made it happen.

Really, at that point there was no need to worry about how reliable his friends really were or whether or not they thought he was disposable. Clearly he wasn’t, after all.

He left the elevator and walked down the hallway, glancing at his watch. It was only about 9:30, not too late at all. His elation began to deflate as he opened the doorway to the apartment, empty as always, cramped and sparsely furnished at the same time. The Wilsons were hardly wealthy by any stretch of the imagination, but their home had felt lived in. There were sculptures and paintings, some made by the artist couple themselves. There was a studio; he hadn’t gone in, but he’d passed it and recognized the smells of paint and clay. People cooked in the kitchen and ate together. In comparison, the Johnson household felt terribly, painfully lonely.

He gave one look into his uncle’s room, and found it empty as always. The half-empty bottle of liquor on the desk earned a frown and a twinge of guilt; he had no idea Cave had been drinking. Perhaps business deals really were falling through. The empty tumbler was still sitting there. “Well, that’s going to attract bugs. Really, Uncle…” Sighing, he walked into the room full of boxes and boxes of paperwork to grab the glass when something beneath it caught his eye.

APERTURE SCIENCE PROPOSAL: TRANS-DIMENSIONAL RESEARCH GRANT REQUEST   
(FOR THE PROPOSED TOURISM BRANCH OF APERTURE SCIENCES)

“Aperture? Like the school?…wait.” That last bit on the front of the folder. Was that the kind of science Aperture was to do? He’d always assumed it was some sort of pharmaceutical thing. That was where the money was, right? And yet…

Looking around with a guilty bite of his lip, he carefully slipped the folder into his hands. Cave wouldn’t notice if he took a quick flip-through, would he?

Inside were diagrams and entire seas of scientific buzzwords Wheatley couldn’t even begin to understand, all of it typed in all-caps. But he knew someone who would understand it, didn’t he? Someone who was doing that exact kind of research. One might even say he was meant to find that folder that night. That it was fate. That…

“That I’m stealing my uncle’s paperwork. I can’t bloody do this! Besides, for all I know this is what he wrote while drunk. I imagine nobody will help him build Aperture because they think he’s a crackpot. Maybe he is a crackpot.” Wheatley wasn’t sure if he felt sorry for his uncle there, or angry for jeopardizing their future on his mad obsession with, well, mad science. “I’d certainly think he was bloody bonkers if I didn’t know better…and besides, if he finds out, he’ll…”

_He’ll what?_  asked the unpleasant voice.  _Hate me? Isn’t that better than being ignored?_

“…S’just for one night,” he mumbled, slipping the folder under his arm. “I’ll have it back before he knows it…”


	20. "What makes you human"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna go ahead and warn for self-harm in this chapter, just to be safe.

Wheatley found he could convince his own body that he was wide awake. What a useful skill that could prove to be.

No, perhaps that wasn’t it. It was just a second wind powered by an emotional upswing. He might have failed Kevin and Craig, but he had a new mission. A week! He just needed to make it a week. Alternately, he just needed to make everything happen in that week. Who could sleep under those circumstances? Not him. He was no lazy layabout.

His hands clasped the document folder. Would Doug get mad at him for the lack of a Grief Seed? What if Doug really needed that? “But I have an excuse,” he told himself. “A real excuse! If I fought now, I’d…” He glanced with a frown at the dark blue gem glimmering in his ring. “He wouldn’t want that. I don’t come home to find him bloody off to who knows where doing some manner of…oh.”

The door opened easily to an empty studio with just one flickering lamp on. “Doug?” The silence and dim yellow light gave the studio an unearthly effect; the eyes of the goddess were staring right at him in some kind of indictment. For what crime he wasn’t sure, but the folder felt heavier in his arms.

“Won’t be judged by a pastel drawing,” he muttered as he shut the door behind him and turned on more lights. “Doug? Mate? You here? Your front door was open. Unlocked and everything. Really don’t suggest you do that. Someone could just waltz in! Take your…” Well, there was no TV. “Your things! Steal all your nice paintings or something. Are you here? If you aren’t I’ll feel like a right idiot talking to myself like this. Anyway, I’ll wait here a bit. Just in case.” Could Doug be out? Wheatley was under the impression that aside from Witch hunts the man was quite the hermit, especially if he was the Queen’s enemy. Then again, he had to be out and about sometimes to have found Wheatley that night…

Wheatley shook his head to banish memories of cold rain and broken phones, hopping up on the old green couch which served as one of the few pieces of furniture in the studio, and waited.

Fifteen minutes of silence and emptiness were all he could stand. Of course he’d been ditched again. Doug didn’t really need his help. He was just accepting it out of pity for Wheatley, to keep the boy from going Witch. Well, he didn’t need it. He didn’t need anyone’s pity to stay alive. “But I certainly do need him to help us find that goddess…where is he?!”

Something crashed behind the closed laboratory door where Doug did his research with the tinkling sound of broken glass. “Of course,” Wheatley whispered, “he must be in there! I forgot about that room. Going on about being abandoned just because he’s doing something else. S’not like I rang ahead or anything. Granted he doesn’t like people going in there, but this is important stuff! Furthering his research! I’d hope, anyway. I’ll just duck right in and out to let him know I’m here…”

Something tingled when he put his hand on the doorknob, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. He took it for static, shivering at the could touch of the metal, and pulled the door open.

It shut behind him, leaving him in a black-walled room flooded with color and light, like the pictures he’d seen of nightclubs. Square patterns danced along the walls and ceilings, hypnotic and dizzying, their bands glowing in ever-changing rainbow patterns. Cubes floated in the air overhead, spinning and changing sizes. “It can’t be,” he said as he stared at one of them dancing by. “Can’t be! That’d be…ridiculous! I’d have sensed it at least…” The effect of the room was so disorienting he had to stop and shut his eyes, holding his head to stave off nausea. “It’s-man alive, if I didn’t know better I’d swear it was a…”

“Wheatley! Are you alright?!”

Wheatley felt a hand on his shoulder and opened his eyes to see Doug staring at him with concern and irritation. The sea of patterns was gone; they were just standing in a large but rather dingy room crowded with crates, books, stacks of papers and scrawled notes pinned to the walls. Wheatley stole a glance at his ring; it wasn’t flashing at all. “Fine,” Wheatley stammered, “just fine! Think I do need sleep after all…just got woozy. Like when you get spots and colors in front of your eyes…”

  
Already Wheatley could barely remember what it was he’d seen. It really had been a meaningless swirl of colors, hadn’t it? Maybe he’d breathed in fumes from some chemical or another. That was probably why Doug had left the door shut. He was just worried about laboratory safety concerns.

Doug looked like he was about to say something, but stopped, standing up with his hands clasped behind his back. “I told you not to come in here,” he snapped. When Wheatley shrank back his face and tone softened, the man running fingers through his hair and the shaggy beard he wore in his ‘adult’ form. “Sorry. I just like to work with privacy. After years of living the way I do, you get a bit twitchy. Well, it’s usually just Cici in here with me, that is. What have you got there?”

“This?” Wheatley held up the paperwork, beaming. “Dimensions are like timelines, right? Can you believe it? This is the science my uncle was working on. Well, some of it. His interests seemed to be all over the place…namely industrial applications for this sort of thing. What sort of industrial applications could you have for bloody-well, who cares? Bet he’d hire you if he ever gets the place set up. Anyway, sorry I don’t have a Grief Seed tonight. A lot happened. It was-it was pretty bad. But! Look! Science. Science will save us all, eh?”

Doug said nothing, flipping through the pages. “I’m going to have to look through it in more detail tonight. It’s alright about the Grief Seed. I always keep a spare or two.” He offered a weak smile. “Wouldn’t have survived as long as I had if I didn’t. Besides, I don’t want to be dependent on you…”  
  
“But I don’t mind! I don’t mind you being dependent, I mean. It means hey, Wheatley’s important to this important thing. Right?” Realizing he’d blurted that out, Wheatley looked away, his gaze falling on the haphazard desk. It reminded him of Cave’s own desk, though even messier and more chaotic. “How’s it coming along? You think this can move it forward?”

“I told you, we’re working as hard as we can. I know you want to be more help, but that just wouldn’t be your area of expertise.” Doug at Wheatley over the papers. “You should be getting some sleep even if you don’t think you technically ‘need’ it.”

“But we don’t, do we? Don’t actually need sleep or…anything, really. Why not take advantage, eh?” Wheatley stared ruefully at his gem ring. “If I have to be stuck as whatever we are now, a creepy lich thing, may as well reap the benefits…”

“You don’t need eat, either,” Doug reminded him. “Yet you still do, right?”

Wheatley hadn’t thought of that. On some level he figured his body could sustain itself without food, but the idea of just not eating sat ill with him. “Well, growing boy and all…and you know. I enjoy it."

“And it makes you feel human.” Doug set the folder on his desk, dusting off his messy lab coat. “That’s important. Eating, sleeping, living with your family and having friends…these are things that keep you human, even when on some level you’re not. You need to be able to lie to yourself to stay functional…” For a second, something distant and haunted entered Doug’s gaze; it fled as soon as it appeared.

It all made sense, a disturbing amount at that, but something nagged at the back of Wheatley’s mind. “Doug, your flat is just this studio and the lab, right? And a loo, I guess. But no kitchen, not much furniture…”

“We have different ways of lying to ourselves.” Doug brushed a hand as if to say he would address the subject no more. “You say your uncle had these. Did he give them to you?”

The well-concocted lie Wheatley had been carrying in his mind dissolved like tissue paper in water, the boy scrambling to find the pieces. “Well-see, he’s very generous with-I sort of went in and-well he isn’t using it NOW, and…”

“Wheatley.”

“We’re desperate here!” Anger flared up in Wheatley as he balled his fists at his sides. “Don’t lecture me about right and wrong at times like this. We’re dying! I’m dying, you’re dying…and there’s no way out. He’s supposed to be the adult in my life and he can’t do anything about this, but I’m sure he’d try if I could tell him. But I bloody can’t! How do I tell him all this, that magic is real and it’s terrible and I’m doomed?!” He took a deep breath. He wanted Doug to like him. He didn’t want to blow up at the man over someone else. “You’re like…what I wish he was like. Responsible and concerned and you care and you’re around and to be honest mate, I just saw what concerned parents are like. Not exactly what I go home to every day. I’m not a blissfully ignorant moron. I know how long Magi like me last. And nobody can do anything about it except us, and that goddess! Not that awful Queen, not even Chell…”

Chell, Chell, Chell. The name echoed in his head. There was something about Chell and all this, and it wasn’t just connected to their mutual promise. He knew something about her that he’d forgotten. What was it?! “A-anyway. I know it’s stealing. But it’s for a good cause! He’d want me to live. He’d want us to break this system…”

Doug was looking at Wheatley for a long time, saying nothing, and a pained look crossed his face. “I’ll look at it. But then you return it. And apologize to him…”

“…Fine.” Technically, Wheatley reminded himself, discipline was something adult figures did as well. But he was hoping Doug wouldn’t count there; as it was, he already felt like he wanted to sink through the floorboards. He’d done nothing wrong. He’d gotten Cave’s dream closer to fruition, even if Cave didn’t know it. And now Doug was angry at him for trying to help.

On the other hand, Doug was reacting to something Wheatley had done. He cared enough to discipline him. That meant, well, something.

“Sorry.” He had to force that out of himself. “It’s just, how to put it. A lot of unfair things happened tonight. Awful, bloody unfair things happened to people I like who absolutely did not deserve it. And as far as I can tell the whole world is like that. You will look at it, though? You’re not lying? Not just appeasing me to make me feel better?”

“You possibly risked destroying your relationship with your uncle to bring me this.” Doug ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I wouldn’t lie about something like that.”

“There is no relationship,” Wheatley blurted before he realized what he’d even said. He fell silent as the words echoed through his head. He felt he ought to amend it with another stream of babbling as he usually did after saying something negative or embarrassing, but nothing came. “I mean,” he mumbled, “we’re family and all, blood. He takes care of me, it’s not a bad situation or anything. There’s just no…there’s nothing to destroy, really.”

“…I see.” Doug’s eyes gained that distant stare for a moment, and the man’s hands began shaking, but he shook his head and seemed to work through it. “I can’t tell you how to handle what’s going on at home. But remember what I said.” He ruffled Wheatley’s hair, to the boy’s slight annoyance. “Don’t sacrifice what makes you human just to stay alive. Staying alive for the sake of living on isn’t much of a life.”

* * *

 

_“I’m sorry I had to hide you. You know how it is. We’re lucky he didn’t ask about you.”_

_“Your heart is troubled. What’s the matter? If you lose concentration your work will suffer, and if you aren’t careful you’ll fall into despair.”_

_“…What makes me different from Her, anyway? I thought it was that I was unwilling to do terrible things to reach my goal, but now I’m not so sure. I’m accepting help from that boy and letting him corrupt himself for the greater cause. Soon we’ll draw someone else in.”_  
  
“The gatekeeper girl, right? Your angel. Isn’t it fate she would be involved sooner or later? That part was set into motion a long time ago, even if the boy wasn’t part of your vision.”

_“I’ve had so many visions and half of them contradict. I’m so tired of it…to be honest, I’m glad that other one didn’t become an oracle after all. It would have broken him.”_

_“Did it break you?”_

_“I don’t know.”_

_“And the paperwork?”_

_“It’s mostly nonsense, as I’m sure you can tell. Whoever this boy’s uncle is, he’s got a vision of science from some kind of pulp novel. There’s a glimpse of a theory there wrapped in a million ideas about how he could make money off of it. But there’s a bit here we can work with, maybe a little…he might have given us a breakthrough after all.”_

_“Will it be worth it?”_

_“I don’t know. If it isn’t, I guess you’ll know soon enough. In the meantime, I have to go hunting. I can’t rely on that boy when he’s in a bad state or I’m no better than Glados.”_  
  
“Oh, hunting! I missed hunting so much. Take me with you?”  
  
“Of course. We’re partners…”

* * *

"You told him what?”

Chell bit her lip. She already felt awkward about it as it was. “I just realized I hadn’t made up my mind. I know telling him ‘no’ would have been easier, but…”  
  
Rita rolled her eyes. “But you’re more about being honest than smart. I get it.” They were sitting up in Chell’s room, though Rita would be sleeping again on the couch. “You’re really lucky your mom didn’t call NASA or whoever about the whole magic thing, by the way.”  
  
“I know.” Chell couldn’t help but smile at that. It was a funny image, in an odd way.

“Look, I have a little experience. If you do like someone, and never tell them because you think it’s easier that way, you’ll just end up regretting it when they’re gone. And it’s a when.” Rita gave Chell a sharp look. “Please don’t ask where the experience is comin’ from.”

“…I won’t.” Chell pulled her knees up under her chin, sitting on her bed. “I can fix the tear in your sweatshirt there…”

“Don’t change the subject. I can’t say Harry Potter is strong enough not to go all wonky if you do reject him, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be honest with him no matter what you decide. For your own sake, too.”  
  
“Can we even have relationships?” Chell traced the quilted star pattern on her bedspread with her index finger. “It just seems…”

“Stupid? It is. But it’s also fun,” Rita added with a daring grin. “Trust me.”  
  
“You’re fifteen. How much more experience can you have had?”

“A lot, alright? I’ve…” Rita huffed. “Alright, not really any experience-experience if that’s what you mean. But I’ve been in love! It’s stupid, but kind of great too. And don’t tell me you’d have been a social butterfly without this magical girl gig.”

Blood rushed into Chell’s cheeks. “I had track. There was a sewing club at school.”

“That you didn’t join.”  
  
“Well…” How was Rita so good at this? Chell bit her lip and slumped back onto the bed. “I like small groups. Or…no groups.”

“I know, I know. Not everyone can be as beloved as I am,” Rita said with a casual stretch. “Anyway yes, we can have relationships. We can have whatever we want, except a future. So I guess that affects things. Me, I just want to live this life to the fullest and then die a hero.”

“You’re still determined to…?”

Rita narrowed her eyes, staring at the hand with her Soul Gem ring. “He loses that way, doesn’t he? The rat. He doesn’t get what he’s after. Plus I don’t leave a Grief Seed behind for the Queen. If I have to go someday, I wanna go giving this piece of crap universe the finger for being the way it is. Craig didn’t want to go Witch either. He wanted me to…”

“He thought he was going to go…” Chell thought back to the pained tone in Craig’s voice as he faced off against the Twin Witch. “If not for Kevin, he would have. That was my job to stop-”

“Will you cut that crap out?” Rita sat down on the bed too, bearing a scowl. “It’s not your job to handle his family affairs for him, and he’d be offended if you tried. You haven’t noticed how proud he is? Wheatley, too.”

“Wheatley?” There were terms that came to mind when Chell thought of the blond boy, but ‘proud’ was not one of them.

“In a way. Far as I can tell, anyway.” Rita scratched her ear with her pinky finger, looking around Chell’s messy room again. “Anyway, what’s done is done. The Contract’s been made, and Craig’s going to outlive us all. ‘Cept Glados, maybe. She went on to me about-about some goddess business to me before I quit.”

“Goddess?” Chell wrinkled her nose. “Is she some kind of occultist?”

“Her? Nah, she doesn’t believe in anything but herself. Wants to become a goddess to break the system, I guess, based on something the loopy oracle guy told her. Pretty sure he’s dead or something, but who can tell these days? To be honest I think she just wanted an excuse to live forever at everyone else’s expense. Make a point to Kyubey, or something.” The Adventure Girl’s voice was softer now, and she was examining her own green-polished nails. “I tried really hard to figure out what went through that girl’s head, back when I was pretending she was anything like Caroline.”

Chell jerked her head up and stared at Rita. “How could Glados be anything like Caroline?! Caroline was so nice!”

“Nice, yeah. But sharp, sharper than you give her credit for. She told me once she knew exactly how she’d defeat every one of us in combat, except Glados. And she was a damn healer! There was this mystery to her, and I guess Glados has it too. But Caroline was a pragmatist. Glados just tells herself she is to justify what she does. I think, anyway…I just saw weird shadows of Caroline in her. Smears of something. And Caroline was following her for some reason…”

“Caroline…didn’t support Glados, did she? I mean she did, but I figured it was like the rest of us. We were recruited before we knew better.”

Rita snorted. “I never had Caroline figured all the way out. As for me, I knew better, but it sounded like a nice change from livin’ for Number One. I liked having a cause. Now that I’m serving yours, you’d better appreciate it.”

“I do, I do!” Chell questioned the wisdom of feeding Rita’s ego further, but it made a nice distraction from the conversation she was trying not to have.

The conversation she needed to have, she corrected herself. Since when was Chell one to run away from the enemy?

“Rita. When I talked to Wheatley, he was acting kind of strange even before I brought you-know-what up. He wouldn’t quite meet my gaze and he was a little too energetic, the kind you get when you’re forcing it…I mean, I know he’s got a crush on me and maybe that’s all it is. But something in his eyes…” Chell rested her chin on her knees as she thought back. “Something was wrong.”

“How well do you know Potter? A good sign that someone’s hittin’ a spot of trouble is if they start acting kinda weird. I mean weird-for-them weird.”  
  
“Not that well, admittedly. We’ve only been friends for a week or two. For all he runs his mouth, he doesn’t talk much about his home life except that he doesn’t seem happy with it. He seems like an earnest and open guy, if kinda self-absorbed sometimes. So I figured if something was wrong, I’d know…hey, Rita.”

Rita looked back up at Chell with an eyebrow raised. “Yeah?”  
  
“Can you do me a favor?”  
  
“I don’t do favors, I rise to challenges. What’s the challenge?”

Chell felt a bit embarrassed to even have to ask, but as Rita herself had said, Chell was completely inexperienced in the fields of both socialization and reading others properly. “Can you talk to him? Wheatley, I mean.”

“Okay, see that? That’s a challenge. You ever tried getting a word in edgewise with that guy? He’ll talk my god damn ear off over some nerdy crap. God, I bet he likes Doctor Who. Brits like Doctor Who, right?”

“I’m serious. Figure out where he stands. Not on me, I mean if he’s…in trouble. You’ve known more Magi than I have, and you have an outsider perspective. I think it’s for the best if we give each other some space for a day or two after the conversation we had.” She smiled weakly. “I still don’t know how I feel about him. I wouldn’t know what a crush would feel like, I think. It was probably kind of cruel to delay giving an answer, but I didn’t want to lie. I feel like it would have been just as dishonest to say there’s no chance of us two ever getting together as it would have been to kiss him out of pity, something he said he didn’t want.”

“Did he? Huh. I was right, the kid does have pride.” Rita shrugged and sighed. “So you wanna make sure he’s not gonna Witch out no matter what answer you give and you can put your conscience at ease? It ain’t gonna be that easy. If he does go, it’s gonna hurt…trust me.”

Already Chell felt a pang of guilt in her stomach. First she let Caroline come up in conversation and then she indirectly reminded Rita of Alice, too. “No, it’s not…it’s not about alleviating guilt. I want to keep him from turning. I want to keep everyone from going Witch, and that means I have to know if something’s wrong.”

“Huh. Yeah, that sounds like you. No real plan but lots of idealism and grit.” Rita ran her hands through her hair. “I appreciate that kinda middle finger to fate on behalf of your pals, though, and plans are for nerds. I’ll try to catch Potter after school and pry his thick head with my sharp wits. Be a regular detective.” She tapped the side of her head with her index finger. “Is this because he Contracted when he met you? That was his dumb decision, you know. You don’t blame Caroline for you Contracting, do you?”

“No! Why would I? I chose to do it myself.”

“I’m just saying that-nevermind. I owe you and I owe your mom, so I’ll nobly sacrifice my afternoon. You just switch off robot mode and get your thoughts in order so you don’t turn into the Witch of Obnoxious Martyrdom.”

* * *

“You stayed home?” Kevin let his legs dangle over the edge of his bed. Craig was sitting in his room, the both of them still in pajamas. “I thought you cared a lot about your attendance record.”

“I did,” Craig said in a distant tone, staring out the window.   
  
“So did you fake sick? Mom had to know.” Kevin occasionally let his eyes wander to the iron ring he now wore on his finger, the only physical proof that the events of the previous night hadn’t been a strange, sad dream. He wasn’t sure what to say to Craig and imagined that talking about anything but that night would be for the best.

“I…I think she could tell I needed a day off. It’s a Friday anyway.” Craig still wasn’t looking Kevin in the eyes, but Kevin sensed some of the aloof barrier that used to surround his big brother was gone. Craig wasn’t even looking at his cellphone.  
  
“Oh, uh…” Guilt knotted up in Kevin’s stomach again. It was because of him that Craig was so sad he had to miss school. It had been bad enough seeing his brother cry the previous night, to say nothing of learning that until very recently, Craig was going to die for Kevin.

Now Kevin was going to die for Craig. He felt numb and accepting of the fact, as if it hadn’t really hit him. It still felt like a dream.

“It’s alright.” Perhaps sensing the change in Kevin’s tone, Craig finally turned to look at him again, and Kevin could see the puffiness beneath his eyes. “It’s going to be alright. Fact: it’s going to work out for us.”

“You don’t have to reassure me,” Kevin said. “Honest. I…I mean, I made a big grown up decision and I don’t know if it was the right one, but I can’t go back on it. It’s not because of you.”

“But it is because of me. It’s because of me you were drawn into everything…”

“It’s because of you I’m not still in the hospital.” Kevin knew he had to cut Craig off before his big brother went on another down spiral of blame. “And I don’t have to die there. I guess that’s why I’m…not really okay with it, but not scared either. I thought a lot about dying when I was sick. I wondered what it would be like. I’m not sick now! I’ll never get sick again if the stuff you told me is correct.”

“Kevin…” Craig buried his face in his hands, and Kevin worried he’d said the wrong thing again. “I know. It’s just…no, it’s-I know what I need to do now. I’m the only one of us who’s going to-but that means I need to keep the rest of you alive as long as possible. So that’s what I’m going to do.”   
  
“Keep us alive? Craig, that’s a really nice thought but you don’t have any magic anymore…”

Craig shook his head as he pulled out his phone. “I don’t need magic. I have the internet, and research, and time. That’s why the Queen wanted to get rid of me so badly she put your life at risk to turn me into a Witch. She knows I can help Chell, Rita and Wheatley undermine her plans through information. That’s what she uses, after all, information and research…and Kevin. You’ll have to fight.”  
  
“I don’t mind! I mean, it’s sad that those Witches used to be people like us, but I can fight!”

Kevin thought his enthusiasm would impress Craig, but instead he was met with a dead-serious stare. “Kevin,” Craig repeated, “you will have to fight. This is a fact. You’re going to be fighting for the rest of your life, and as long as Glados and her cohorts are a threat it’s not just going to be against Witches. Do you think you can do that? If you can’t, I’m sure Chell will understand. They’ll protect you. They’re not perfect, but they’re loyal and true. But think before you answer.”

The hum of the heater filled the silence that was left as Kevin glanced at that same window where he’d met the ‘red bird’ just a few nights earlier. She hadn’t encouraged him to think at all. She’d urged him onwards towards a decision. Here he was, having already accepted the awful burden his brother carried, and Craig was still willing to ask him what he wanted.

“I don’t want to fight people.” Kevin bit his lip. “But I can if I have to, and I will. It’s a cause important to you, right? And I like your friends. I want them to be my friends too, cuz it’d be nice to have some. Besides, if I was going to be an astronaut it’s not like it would have been easy either. They have really rigorous physical training, and they have to be good at science. And then sure, they get to go out into space and see stars and experience zero gravity, but I get to save the world and-and fly! And shoot comets! None of them get to do that.”

“…So you’re okay with this, then?”  
  
“Not-not really,” Kevin confessed. “Actually, the more I think about it the scarier it is. But I won’t be alone. And we have Chell! She seemed really brave. She reminded me of you.”   
  
That earned a slight stare from Craig, and then a cough. “Fact: I’m less idealistic. But you’re right about her, anyway. And I’m already thinking of a strategy she can use to keep the Court from spreading. But, um, first…” He glanced aside. “Do you want to play something? Together. Like, I don’t know. Monopoly?”  
  
Kevin hated Monopoly. He was sure Craig was the only person on Earth who liked it and everyone else just played it out of some incomprehensible sense of obligation to an old game. To him it seemed to go on for a thousand years, and he could think of fewer subjects for a board game less thrilling than real estate.

Even so, he grinned. It was Craig asking him to play for once. “Okay, but I get to be the iron.” He used to get through games by pretending the iron was a rocket ship.

* * *

 

Perhaps, Wheatley thought, he should have slept after all. He’d thought earlier he didn’t need to sleep, and perhaps technically that was true, but maybe it would have put him in a better mood. He still felt ill at ease about his argument with Doug, a bit dizzy and confused about that moment with Chell, and guilt gathered in his stomach reminding him that Kevin had contracted when it had been his job to prevent just that.

If he could just gather some of that sparkling, shining feeling he’d had when he first saw Chell fight, flying around like an angel in orange, he could settle his mind. But it was as if he’d contracted ages ago, not last month. Was he going to go on like this forever? Would it just get worse? And what in God’s name was he doing spending whatever time he had left learning algebra?

_If I can fix my eyes, would be terribly useful if I could get my brain to care about maths_ .   _Since apparently I’m supposed to like that sort of thing or use it in life._ The math instructor was a kind old man, but he had a monotone, slow voice that only made Wheatley long to fall asleep harder. To keep himself awake through the blackboard lecture he was poking the palm of his hand with his pencil, an idle gesture more than anything else.

Besides his exhaustion and confusion, something just felt off with his body. He couldn’t pinpoint for the life of him what it was, because it struck him as a lack of something. He was hungry, but that was natural before lunch. The headache could be attributed to the sleep deprivation building up over the past few nights. But this, this other sensation, he knew he’d felt it before.

No, it wasn’t a sensation. It was the absence of one. He could barely feel the sharpened tip of the pencil against his palm.

Out of curiosity, he pushed his thumb against the pencil tip. Usually it would pinch just a bit if he poked hard enough, but this time there was nothing. Looking up to make sure he was being properly ignored by the teacher and his classmates, he jabbed at the palm of his hand.

Nothing.

He tried it again and felt nothing but a bit of pressure. With each jab he pushed harder and harder, finally gritting his teeth as he stabbed his own palm hard enough to break the skin.

At first he was afraid to look. He’d put a bit too much force into it and broken the pencil, the smaller piece sticking out of the shallow wound. He knew his own pain tolerance, and how much he could take. Getting blood drawn usually elicited tears from him. He had trouble even watching violent movies.

And here he stared at his own hand, feeling absolutely no pain at all.

Pulling the pencil shard out of his hand and dropping it into his bag, he squeezed the bleeding palm shut and held it to his chest to hide it. That, too, should have left him screaming; he felt only warm blood. Up shot his other hand. “Sir! Um, ‘scuse me. I just need to be excused. To the lavatory. You know. Sorry for the timing. Emergency.” He knew he was going white in the face, and prayed silently that no one would notice.

* * *

 

“Kyubey!” Wheatley snapped, once he was sure the boys’ room was empty. “Kyubey, get out here. I know you’re bloody around. You always are, right? Snooping, spying on your little projects? Don’t be prudish, mate, it’s just a stall and I’m not doing anything gross. Very clean stall except where someone carved a few unpleasant things. So come out!”

Wheatley was leaning on the bathroom wall, wrapping his hand in toilet paper. The logical thing would have been to go straight to the nurse, but that would require answering a lot of questions he didn’t want to deal with. Besides, he had a few to ask himself.

Kyubey leaped over the door and onto the tiled floor in front of him, curling his tail around his feet. “Humans typically get upset if we interrupt them in this area.”

“I’m not doing what they don’t want you to see, trust me. I have something to ask you. Very innocent question, really! Nothing important, honest…” Wheatley wondered if it would be possible to intimidate a creature with no emotions, and for the first time since he’d corrected his vision found himself missing his glasses. He used to be able to glower down through those and scare off at least the shortest and most cowardly bullies. “Okay, well, thing is this. Kind of jabbed myself-no, stabbed would be the better word. Like right here.” He held the wound for Kyubey to see.

“Why would you do something like that? It’s counterproductive and illogical.”  
  
“I didn’t ask for your bloody opinion on it! See, I can’t feel anything. I should be in a lot of pain, and there’s none. I know you said this whole Soul Gem thing shields us from pain, but it seems like…I used to be able to feel some of it. And I know the others can get hurt. Sure enough I did a number on that invisible jerk that one time!” He laughed, then noticed how odd and imbalanced it had sounded and cleared his throat. “Though if I recall I couldn’t feel much of what he did against me, either…figured it was more him using a really sharp weapon or something. So, I guess it’s been going on longer than I thought and I just…noticed it. Anyway, listen…” He bit his lip. “Is my body broken? I know you mentioned it’s like hardware now, and goodness knows but hardware can break. Had more than one desktop just go kerplunk on me, of no fault of my own might I add.”

He could feel his heart racing, even with the knowledge in the back of his head that it only did that out of old habit.

Kyubey, naturally, looked unperturbed. “It’s not literal hardware. I was just using a metaphor. Actually, this is to your benefit. It’s possible to block out pain entirely. After all, it’s just a signal from your nerves letting you know you’ve been injured. The real you, your Soul Gem, cannot feel any pain at all. Most Puella and Puer Magi have to intentionally activate that state, but defensive magic users will sometimes attain it by accident as you have.”

“…Oh.” Wheatley stared down at the red stain on the paper-wrapped hand. “I did it? To myself? Don’t remember doing it…not that I’m terribly fond of pain, but isn’t the alternative more than a little creepy? I mean, it’s bad enough I’m some kind of lich. This makes me feel terribly less…human. But I am human, right? And so I can turn this weird numbness off? If I wanted to…”  
  
Kyubey just shook his head. “I don’t understand why humans are so attached to this concept of ‘humanity.’ From the moment I made contracts with you, you left your humanity behind. That should be obvious from the things your kind can do. We’ve improved upon your original design in every way, offset only by the Witch transformation. And that’s only a necessity to stave off the decay of the universe, inflicted on a being who was inevitably going to die anyway. As for the numbness, I can’t say if it’s permanent or not. I haven’t been able to observe a Magi with it for long enough to know.”

“…What do you mean?” Wheatley backed up against the stall door. “What do you mean, ‘haven’t observed for long enough?’ Aren’t you lot bloody immortal and endless and all-knowing or something?”

"Usually when they reach that phase…”

Wheatley didn’t have to hear what Kyubey was suggesting next. Of course, the little white creature would know what had to be obvious to everyone by now. He was a dead magician walking, doomed by the universe to be a failure even among the tiny niche of individuals sharing his ill fate. They would laugh at him too, wouldn’t they? If they knew, they’d pity him. Poor Wheatley, he’s so far gone he can’t even feel things anymore. Poor Wheatley, the least we can do is make sure his Witch goes quickly. Poor Wheatley, poor Wheatley, he didn’t even matter in the end…

His hand shot out, dragging Kyubey up by the ears until the red eyes were level to his own. It took Wheatley a second to realize he was laughing; it took effort to get himself to stop, covering his mouth with the bloodied hand. “I’m not even human anymore! So you can’t taunt me with that ‘humans this’ and ‘humans that’ business. I probably don’t even need to be here at school. What good’s it going to do me? But I have no better ways to spend my time, and I did promise Doug. He’s going to…no, I won’t tell you. But I do have a question.”

With one hand he squeezed Kyubey around the creature’s furry body, and tugged hard at the long ears with the other. “What about you? Do you feel any pain? I don’t see a bloody Soul Gem on you, mate! Why I bet…I bet it would really hurt if I whipped you against the wall, wouldn’t it? Or shoved you into the john and flushed it. Would flood the bathrooms, though, and they’d make me clean it up…”  
  
“You’re wasting your time and acting irrational!” Kyubey shouted, though whether he was in any physical discomfort Wheatley couldn’t tell. The creature was writhing in his arms, trying to break free.

“Stop going on about rationality! I know why you picked me, mate. It had nothing to do with destiny or fate or any nonsense about parallel universe selves. I’m sure if it wasn’t you making a victim of those other selves, someone else was dumping on them because that’s how it is to be Wheatley! Always at the bottom even when you think you’ve reached the surface for once. Even when you think for once you could stand out.”   
  
He held Kyubey dangling by the ears. “You wouldn’t know that. You’re a parasite. You saw me and assumed I was an easy offer because I was weak and stupid. ‘He’ll be a Witch in no time,’ you thought as you approached me with lies about being spectacular and important. You even led me right to Chell so I’d be captivated by her weird hero-worship spell. All part of your plan! And now I don’t even have much in the way of a human body. I’m less human than all of them, isn’t that right? And you’re telling me to accept it as a bloody gift! Well let me tell you something.” He shook the white creature with all of his might.

“I don’t mind this. I don’t! It is a benefit after all. If you expected it to break me, you’re wrong and understand even less about humans than you lot claim. You said I developed shield magic because I’m a coward, isn’t that right? Well. What’s a coward who has nothing to fear but despair and death? I mean, if I never feel anything it won’t hurt to fight at all.” A smile crossed his face, though he didn’t feel the least bit happy. There was just an odd catharsis to this, as his voice dropped to a steady calm.. “I am never going to become a Witch, not in a hundred thousand years.”  
  
“We can wait that long. Certainly we’ve been patient enough with Glados. If nothing else, Glados might be the human closest to breaking our system just by staying alive for so long, though there are a few other old ones. Speaking of, thanks for mentioning Doug. We’ll know to keep an eye on him again.” The creature sprinted off under another stall and was gone, leaving Wheatley to slump down onto the bathroom floor and stare numbly at his hand.

“Less human than all of them,” he repeated in a whisper. “They get to be part of a grand tapestry painted by a bloody oracle and I…I will just have to make my own greatness, eh? Right? I was meant to meet Doug and make friends with him. I was meant to help him. She gets to be great in…some way I don’t quite understand yet, and I get to be important in a ‘fixing this entire bloody broken universe’ way.” He felt his pulse slowing down and his breathing returned to normal. “I’m better at fighting Witches now. I can take whatever comes.”

Blue magic swirled around the cut in his hand, healing it up instantly. “Why’d I wait so long to do this? In a way the little hairball’s right. This is good. Less of a wimp this way. It’s useful! Why, I bet I don’t really need to sleep either. I did fix my eyes.” He stood up and stretched. “I know Doug kept going on about ‘staying human,’ and I’m sure he meant well, but he changes his age with illusions and magic for crying out loud. Got to be compromises somewhere. Besides, they do need me in class again, wouldn’t want the teacher to think I’m sick…”

As he crossed the bathroom, he caught a glance at his reflection. There really were bags under his eyes, and he was looking more pale than usual, not just in a way that could be attributed to shock. He thought he caught a glimpse of something odd in his eyes, glowing faintly blue, but he brushed it off.  
  
“Told him before and I’ll tell him again. I’m never becoming a Witch. Don’t know what I even am now, but I am never becoming a Witch.” Another little laugh slipped out. “Hey, Goddess, if you’re out there in another dimension or whatever? When I bring you here, and I’m sure you’ll be grateful when you do, wouldn’t you do me a favor? Maybe grant me a little bit of power, just a tiny bit, to set all the Kyubeys on fire or something. That’s all. Then we’ll be normal again. Or better. Maybe she could make us better. Can’t go back to being human after this, I’d never adjust. I bet Chell would love that, getting to have all her magic without all the burdens. What’s so good about being human, anyway…?”

* * *

“Well, isn’t this deja vu.” Rita was heading towards the gates to that old Catholic school Wheatley and Craig both attended, despite neither of them being Catholic as far as she could tell. “Well, I can’t blame ‘em. The public schools kinda suck around here if what Chell tells me is right…” She stopped to lean against a lamp post, glancing at her watch. “…Dammit, I’m early. I can probably get Potter to pay for pizza too. Or maybe coffee or something.” She shivered, pulling her coat tighter around her. Chell had let her borrow a heavier jacket for the weather, though it was slightly too big. “Come on, come on…”

Something else hit her from behind, a brief chill and the sound of a sigh. It felt different somehow from the ordinary December cold stinging her face. She recognized it all too well, and sure enough, her Gem was blinking.

“…Huh. Well, a gal’s got duty. I’ll catch Wheatley later. Just better take care of this Witch before someone who isn’t Rita the Adventure Girl gets themselves in a spot of trouble.” It wasn’t far, just a block or two away near a boarded-up apartment building. The circular Labyrinth gate bore a cloud obscuring a sun. “Or heck, maybe there’s someone already in there! Damsel or dude in need. I’ll just ask ‘em to step aside, and make room for…”

Her train of thought derailed itself entirely as she entered the Labyrinth, an Escher maze of platforms against an endless sunset sky with no land in sight. She had to adjust to the fact that she was currently standing at an angle perpendicular to the other magi, who to her appeared to be standing entirely sideways, but that did nothing more than give her a minor headache. What left her silent was who it was she was looking at.

He was scruffy-looking and wan, with messy black hair, pale skin and too-light blue eyes staring at her in mild panic. His uniform looked like a tattered grey lab coat, but with the silver, ornate trim she might expect on a wizard’s cloak. He carried around a silver halberd, the blade made of diamond and topped with a blinking eye.

The boy’s shock melted away as he blinked in recognition and then narrowed those icy eyes. “You’re Court, aren’t you? Knew they’d follow me, knew they’d never let me go…You can’t just let me die in peace, can you?!”

“Whoa!” Rita held up her hands. “Hold it, buddy! I’m not-”

“Did she send you after me to prove a point?! I thought you were one of her lieutenants, not a new recruit. I don’t want to have to do this, but…” As he raised his halberd, he stopped as if listening to a whisper. Rita couldn’t see anyone else nearby; maybe, she figured, he was using a telepathic link with some unknown partner. “Hmm? Alright. I understand. She’s all yours. We’ll both accept the responsibility in the end, Cici.”

“Yo! Oracle guy, right? Whatever your name is…listen to me! I’m not actually with the Court anymore…aw hell.”

Her voice was drowned out as a shape loomed up from behind Doug. As she summoned her whip and stared upwards, Rita could only make out a cubic shape, a glowing heart and a trail of multicolored squares floating behind it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (5/28) And with that, the AO3 archive is caught up with the chapters I've posted on Tumblr, finally. At this point I'll be posting them directly to AO3 for the foreseeable future until the fic is completed. (I'll also update the fanfiction.net mirror when I get a chance.) On the downside, this means you're stuck with my rather slow update schedule. In the meantime, enjoy!


	21. "Now I matter, isn't that it?"

_She could tell from the soft red glow welling up beneath the street that the creature was preparing to surface again. Some distance behind her a mercifully unoccupied factory creaked, the flames engulfing it rapidly eating away at its foundation. She reminded herself it couldn’t kill her and clutched her staff, waiting._

_Something tugged at the hem of her dress._

_She spun around rapidly, ready to smash a Familiar with the head of her staff, only to look into a pair of washed-out blue eyes staring out from under a mess of black hair. The boy was trembling and coughing, face flushed from the heat of the fires around them. He was slightly taller than her and couldn’t have been more than a year older._

_“What are you doing?! Can’t you get out of here? It isn’t safe!” She pointed towards an alleyway, only to realize it was blocked off by dancing Familiars of flame and stone. That boy, the human boy, was trapped. To spare the amount of magic necessary to keep him safe would cost her, and the city._

_Sighing, she blew into the palm of her hand, creating a thin cloud of mist that swelled to cover his whole body. It was her poison smoke magic, minus the venom; replacing it with water vapor was an easy trick by now. “That should keep you safe for a little while. Now just stay right there and don’t move.” Where she stood was the only safe spot by her calculations. She had meant for it to be a vantage point so she could attack the Witch from a safe distance, but that just wasn’t going to work now._

_“But who are you?”_   
_She ignored the boy’s question and transformed herself briefly into mist, speeding across the glowing bit of cobblestone to materialize on the other side by a fallen lamp post. “What a mess this one has made,” she murmured as she brushed strands of long brown hair out of her face. “If it takes me down…”_

_Staring across, distorted by the heat rippling in the air, she saw a white creature approach the trembling boy._

_“...then I guess he’s got a contingency plan. Haven’t you, Kyubey?” He always did. There was a certain twisted comfort in that. Gripping her staff in both hands, white dress soiled with ash and burnt at the edges, she narrowed her eyes and waited as the ground burst open and the Fire Worm Witch emerged, letting off its weeping, sobbing wail._

* * *

“SON OF A GODDAMN-”

Squares, squares and more squares filled Rita’s vision. She couldn’t tell which way was up, whether she was standing or sitting. Everything looked the same in all directions, a seemingly infinite sphere of colored squares.

“-brings a WITCH into a WITCH LABYRINTH? I’m in some kinda meta-Labyrinth!” She held her head to try to concentrate, only to find the image had not changed. Motion sickness churned her stomach. “Alright, Rita, alright. Just concentrate. Use the ol’ noggin. Remember. Big Witch outside, little Witch in here. Find the little one, kill it and get to the big one before Doc Stupid does.”

That problem soon became apparent when she looked outwards. She was standing on some kind of solid surface, but beyond that she could see no other landmarks other than the multicolored squares rotating in linear patterns on a black background. It was already giving her a headache. When she summoned her whip and sent a blast of lightning outwards to hit one of the squares, it seemed to have no effect. It did, however, hit some manner of surface which had to be the edge of the Labyrinth. As she suspected, she was trapped in a very small space.

“Okay, so this means one of them is you. One of these...lots and lots of little squares is you. That’s fine. Come on out! I’ll fight you all! I’ll take ya all on at once! Bring it!”

The squares didn’t respond. In fact, the Labyrinth wasn’t doing much of anything, and there was no Cici in sight.

“God dammit!” She kicked at nothing. “Is that oracle makin’ a fool of me? He’s just gonna trap me in here while he gets the big bucks. What the hell, man? I heard he hardly even goes out to hunt. Or…” She narrowed her eyes at the nothingness. “Does he just send you, huh?”

No response.

“What? What’s wrong? You don’t wanna kill me? I’m a magical girl! You’re a Witch! I thought I’m a big tasty snack to you now. At least put up some kinda fight! What, you go all soft for Creepy Eyes out there? Well then, maybe I oughta sneak out and charm him with my good looks. Give him a real, semi-livin’ girl instead.”

Nothing.

“Okay, so you ain’t the jealous type after all. A girl can try.” She paced in a circle, trying desperately to at least hear anything going on outside the Labyrinth. “Fine, you know what? This is fine. I can wait you out. I don’t care what trick he’s usin’ to control you. Sooner or later you’re gonna get hungry and come to get me, and then I’m gonna kick your ass.” She crossed her arms and yawned. “Man, here I thought I slept fine last night…”

As she tapped her foot, she found it oddly relaxing to stand there and watch the hypnotically spinning cubes whirl by. “Yeah, this is some kinda...ninja trick. I just get all calm and wait for the right one to signal itself and that’s you, isn’t it? That’s gonna be you…” For some reason she could feel her tension and irritation seeping away from her. Without realizing what she was doing, she started sitting cross-legged inside the bubble.

It was warm in there, a nice relief from the stinging cold outside. Rita could recall nights she spent sleeping anywhere she could find during her year on the road, traveling from city to city in search of unclaimed territory. It had been so nice that first night Glados had given her a room to sleep in, complete with bedsheets and soft mattress. So nice, so very nice…

“Dammit!” She snapped awake. “So this is what you do, huh? Get someone all sleepy and…” She yawned. “Well, it ain’t working on me. Ain’t...working. Nope. I got a...fight in me.” She forced her eyes open. It was just so pleasant inside of that sphere and calming. Not blissful exactly, but pleasant, the way one felt after a good meal or long bath. She could just curl up in there, knowing she was safe, finally safe…

“No. No, I’m not safe.” She dug her nails into her palms to stay awake, thankful she’d never turned off pain like some magi she knew. “I’m in the belly of the beast cuz ol...weirdo out there thinks I’m Court still, which means he’s got no reason to keep me alive. Why would he? I’m a threat so far as he’s concerned! No. Concentrate, Rita, concentrate. You survived Hell before, so dying this way would just be anticlimactic. Think of your hero’s death,” she told herself. Hearing the sound of her own voice helped her concentrate. “Think of something nasty. Something to make me angry. Angry is good! I like angry. Think of…”

_A man standing above two bodies, nothing more than a silhouette next to a broken window, his face visible for just a few seconds in the lurid green light of her transformation before she struck, eyes clouded with tears…_

Bliss fled, and calm shattered. Good. She opened her hands, blood welling up where the nails had dug in, and faced directly forward. Without the little voice whispering into her ear and lying to her about how safe she was, it was far easier to stare directly into the spinning shapes and see the bigger one hiding behind them, square and bearing a pink heart shape in the center that beat in time with her own. It took just three powerful strikes with her lightning-charged whip to shatter the sphere around her, the cube-shaped Witch falling to the ground and twitching before melting into a Grief Seed.   
Trying to force those unfortunate memories back into the parts of her mind she kept them in until they were useful, she grabbed the Seed and stared up where the other Witch had been only to realize she was standing in the first floor of that boarded-up building. “God dammit! Did you get to it first, Oracle? You damn coward! I’m telling you, I’m not Court anymore! And you’re in some place to judge, usin’ a Witch to do your bidding!”   
There was silence, which Rita answered with a snort. “Well, whatever. I’ve got your Cocoa or whatever now, so I’m just gonna claim my rightful prize and-”  
“Please give it back.”  
Doug seemed to step out of nowhere, though the air rippling around him suggested he’d been hiding behind an illusion. His voice quivered and his hands shook, his eyes refusing to meet her glare.

Rita clung to the Seed as if it were made of gold. “And why should I do that? You attack me unprovoked and then don’t even let me take a swing at you. What fun’s a fight if you won’t participate? I beat your pet Witch fair and square. ‘Sides, you got a Grief Seed from that other one, right? You’re as greedy as Gla-”

“Please.” The desperation in his eyes was hard to look at. “I need...her around me. Cici. The Calming Witch. She helps me control my powers, and…”

“...and in return, what? You feed her?”  
“I can keep her satisfied feeding on other Witches. Or criminals,” Doug added, again looking away from her. “I just can’t let Kyubey take her. I’ll give you the Grief Seed from the other Witch. I was desperate, or she’d start feeding indiscriminately…”

“Which is why you don’t keep WITCHES around, dumbass! That’s dangerous as hell. -And I mean, I like danger. But what the hell?” Rita looked at the Seed in her hand, decorated with the same heart that Cici had worn on her body.

Maybe it was an old partner? The way he talked to Cici as a person suggested it.

“...We trade,” Rita finally suggested, “and also you show me what the hell your deal is. Glados couldn’t stand the idea that you were still around, so I guess you being a thorn in her side merits respect from me if nothing else. I promise I’m not Court. Alright? Just ask Chell.”

Doug was staring somewhere else as Rita spoke, and showed no signs of listening until she said that last bit. “...Chell?”

“Yeah, Chell. The rebel. Does little space holes for magic. Broke with the Court and lived and now regularly spends time giving Glados the middle finger, figuratively speaking. Haven’t convinced her to do it for real. You want the deal or not?” Rita resisted the urge to toss the Seed in the air and catch it in case Doug had a speedy hand.

She thought she heard Doug mutter something about ‘Little Queen’ before taking a deep breath. “Fine. We’ll do the trade at my studio. There’s something I need to show you if you know the li-this Chell.” Doug rubbed his neck. “We haven’t much time. I shouldn’t even be out here. Should have just tried to wait it out, wait for Wheatley…”

“...wait. Did you say Wheatley….?”

* * *

 

Wheatley had grabbed an ice-cold cola on the way back from school to test whether or not he could still register temperature or taste. Both were still there, though the cold was dulled even in the winter chill. When he slipped on the same ice patch that had been ruining his walk home for the past few days and fell hard on his knees, he didn’t feel a thing.

It wasn’t so bad. He could get used to it. Who wanted pain?

Still, with all that had gone on he desired nothing more than to just flop onto his bed and nap after school, letting the events of the past few days sink in slowly for once. He threw the door open casually, setting down his bag and making it halfway down the short hall before realizing someone was standing there.

“Hey, kid.”

Wheatley stopped short and stared, then broke out into a grin. “Uncle! You’re home, during daytime hours! I mean no offense but you’re usually sort of...um, nocturnal from what I can tell. Does this mean you got someone to agree to your contracts after all?”

Cave was present and surprisingly awake, but not smiling. His voice, as it always did, boomed and filled the room as if coming from all sides. “Yeah, yeah, I’m home. I live here too, bud. Sit down.” He pointed at the green stuffed chair in the living room. “We have to talk.”

That caused a minor rush of panic in Wheatley. Did something happen with one of their remaining relatives? Cave would have been a lot more cheery and jovial if his contracts had worked out. What could be so important that Cave would actually be home during the day to talk to him about it? Wheatley doubted his Soul Gem could take another major shock at this point. It was already so patchy lately.

“Alright, uncle, I’ll sit…” Wheatley’s smile faded as he settled into the ancient chair that still smelled of cigar smoke from Cave’s younger days, trying to set aside his feeling of unease.

“Hmm...thought so. You got the look of guilt in you.” Cave raised an eyebrow and leaned on the wall. “So, I’ve been looking for some paperwork.”  
“Paperwork?” _Paperwork, paperwork. Oh! That paperwork. So he noticed. I mean of course he’d notice, but I thought maybe...oh, what am I bloody thinking? Of course you’d only want to talk to me now._ Wheatley bit his lip to stay quiet, even as something started to brew inside of him. “Oh, um, paperwork…”

If Cave saw the look on Wheatley’s face, he didn’t give it more than a brief stare before continuing, walking back and forth across the room. “And no, I didn’t call you in to help me out with this. What rules did I set down when you moved in? There weren’t many. Don’t break the law, don’t drink or smoke and don’t mess with my study.” He gave Wheatley no chance to answer, going on as if he were a school teacher. “I know you’re not smoking and you’ve never even touched a bottle of beer.” He looked at Wheatley and some of the anger seemed to leave his scowl for a moment as he clasped his hands behind his back. If Wheatley didn’t know better, he’d even detect a hint of remorse. “Probably getting a bit too lax. Kids need guidance. Rules. Order. FIgured you were like me. I was driven. Give me total freedom and I’ll use it to be productive with my time! Aren’t kids supposed to be more creative and open and stuff? You know what I mean! But fact of the matter is, you broke a rule. I can’t let that just go, ya know? What kind of parenting would that be? That was you, right?”

Under Cave’s piercing stare, Wheatley felt himself wince and hated himself for it. How dare that loud mouthed old man make him feel guilty for something he had to do to save his own life? What could Cave known of anything Wheatley had been through? He was never around.

Was that what it took to get the old man’s attention? Break one of his rules?

Cave snapped his fingers. “Knew it. Cave Johnson is no one’s fool, kid! And I won’t let you make one of me. This office is in a perfect sort of order organized by myself and only myself. I know where everything is! I know if a pen is moved. It might be the only thing I’ve got right now, but it’s mine. Like how your room is yours! Man needs a sanctuary, a little castle of his own. You understand. It’s important to me.”

The older man was quiet for a moment, looking down at the coffee table before continuing and speaking just a little softer. “But look. I know I haven’t been the best...well, Richter was so much better at this stuff. Probably why he went with the whole ‘dad’ thing. So I get it. I read parenting books too! Gotta educate myself. You grab my paperwork to get my attention. It’s a psychology thing! See, I figured you wanted space. Growing up with a twin, it was like I never had a moment to myself. I mean now...well, sure, now it’s different because-okay, look. Adolescence is stressful, right? You act out. Me, I made out with girls. I guess this is what you do. Steal stuff that I figured you didn’t give a damn about.”

He was making excuses. _He was making excuses._ And he was talking to Wheatley as if he were some object of interest, psychoanalyzing him like school counselors and teachers and other sheltered adults who had no idea what he was going through and never would. Merely being grounded would be more merciful than being picked apart so someone who had failed him could soothe his own conscience.

And here he thought maybe Cave wanted to see him! He thought for once someone went out of their way to say hello. What a moron he was, that Wheatley.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Cave stared at Wheatley as if he was seeing a ghost, the confidence trickling out of his voice, leaving the latter wondering exactly what sort of expression he was wearing. “Look, sorry to bring up the whole parents thing. I know we both try to put that behind us. I’m saying, I get it. We’re talking here. Man-to-boy, uncle-nephew, serious talking. And the news talks about kids your age just vanishing, getting involved in weird gangs or something. Turning up dead! So you understand I can’t be too worried nowadays. Hey! We can have that dinner together, how’s that? Get those scallion pancakes you like. Bond. You know, act like-”

“Like what? _Family_? That’s the only reason I’m even here, isn’t it? If you didn’t feel some sort of obligation towards your dead brother, I’m sure I’d be floating around in the bloody foster system right now. Wouldn’t even be in the States. And you wouldn’t be home at all if I didn’t mess with your precious office. You didn’t even ask me why! You just guessed you knew because everyone thinks they know about me. Wheatley’s transparent! Wheatley wears his heart on his sleeve and is too stupid to keep secrets! Wheatley must be fine because he’s smiling, the old goofball!” He was not smiling.

There, there it was. Wheatley caught pain in Cave’s expression for just a fraction of a second. Why did it feel so gratifying? “...Now hold on kid, wait just a-”

He would not wait. No, Wheatley had Cave as a captive audience now. He couldn’t stop now, not when all of this was finally coming to the surface. He stood and pointed right at his uncle, raising his own voice slowly. The two were almost close in height now; for the first time it hit Wheatley that he would quite soon outgrow Cave, provided he still grew normally.

“Don’t think I’m not on to you, old man. You take me in as a charity case so you can feel better about your own life. ‘Well, at least I’ve done this poor brat a favor!’ I mean, that’s all I am anyway, right? A pathetic bumbler with no talents or anything interesting about him who wasn’t quite old enough for emancipation after the funeral. You made me a little corner in your ever-so-busy and important life and pat yourself on the back now that you’ve done your duty to my dad. Least I’ve got a home, food and clothes on my back, so I guess I should be grateful! But you don’t care if I live or die until suddenly I start interfering in your stuff and now I matter, isn’t that it? Now that it’s about you and your whole dream company thing, you’re going to stand here and appeal to me like we’ve got some connection aside from blood. Well riddle me this! What’s my favorite food? What are my hobbies? Best subject? Worst subject? Am I a morning or evening person? How long did I spend crying after the memorial service? You can’t answer, can you? Mum and Dad could have, you know. If they were still here I might not have, I might not have…”

Damn, it felt so good. Wheatley’s eyes were watering, but he couldn’t have been crying at a time like that. He felt great! Didn’t he?

Cave reached for Wheatley’s arm, voice still booming but clearly shaken. “...Kid, you look awful. You get into something? We can talk about this! Just-”

No. Wheatley wouldn’t let Cave interrupt. He wouldn’t let himself be talked over again. If nothing else, he was damn good at talking. He pulled his arm away with more force than he intended, leaving Cave gawking and even a little spooked.

_Man alive,_ Wheatley thought, _this feels so good. Let him squirm for once!_ “And don’t think I don’t know a few things about you, mate. I get you now. You’re a dreamer with a lot of big ideas nobody else gets. You can’t stand the idea of being ordinary either. Not for the dreary life of a hospital worker iis Cave Johnson, no! He’s going to be the big, flashy, successful brother. I get it, because I’m the same. It’s the worst, being mediocre. The bloody worst. Haven’t the least expectations for me because nobody ever does, but surely you’re destined to be some big shot, eh? Everything’s worth it for that!”

Did that do it? Cave had fallen silent and slack, rubbing his arm as if it were sore. Hadn’t the man seemed so big and powerful once? He wasn’t so big. Why’d Wheatley ever needed him in the first place? “I admit, the past month or so would have been a lot easier if I’d known you only cared when something interfered with you. Rule breaking does it, now? So that night when you didn’t make it to dinner I should have just stayed out all night and never come home and that would have gotten you worried? Oh wait! That’s exactly what I did! And not a word from you, because you just assumed I was back when you dragged your carcass in at night after kissing up to people who aren’t worth your time. Didn’t peek in my room, I bet? Or I imagine we’d have had this conversation much sooner, mate!”

A flush of anger flooded Cave’s face, clashing with the look of guilt in his eyes. “So you weren’t...dammit, Wheatley! This is no time to be going through a rebellious phase! If you wanted more time with me, why didn’t you...god damn, when did you get so tall? Your mother wasn’t that tall…”

“Johnsons have productive genes.” Wheatley paced across the room, his venting agitating rather than relaxing him. “Don’t like talking to me much now that we’re actually on speaking terms? That’s fine. I can blab enough for both of us and I have plenty to say. For instance! Did you know I spent every day after school in my room doing nothing? How much I wanted to bloody talk to you about it when maybe you, big, loud, jolly Cave who I used to think was such a neat and exciting person, could give me some advice or just listen? Can’t always vent to the walls, mate! They never say a bloody damn thing to help! But you’re an adult here. You’re supposed to…I mean, you’re never there! You don’t live here. You just sleep here! You know I’m a moron and I make bad decisions. Isn't it your job to keep me from throwing my life away…?”

Wheatley realized then that he was crying, and his face burned from the humiliation. How dare his eyes betray him like that? The rest of his body seemed to obey lately. He hadn’t even felt the cold on the walk back home. If nothing else hurt, why would this?

Cave, meanwhile, seemed to have found his voice even if it was shaking. He sat down in the green chair. “...Okay. I’m gonna just ignore all that venom you tossed out, because obviously something’s wrong. Just talk to me! Tell me what’s up. I can help you! That’s what I do. Solve problems.” He rubbed his temples, looking more withered and old than Wheatley remembered, then looked back up at his nephew. “Say, where the hell are your glasses…? Don’t tell me you lost those.”

“...No. No, you can’t help me.” Wheatley wiped the tears away and glared down at Cave. Obviously he had to see with his own eyes. What good did it do him to hide his secrets now? “That’s just it. You can’t. Too late now.”

He waved a hand over his Gem to transform right there. The blue glow filled the room before Wheatley stood there, shining in his Magi-hunting uniform without taking his eyes off of Cave. Let that old fool know the difference between the both of them.

That got his attention. “What the hell-” Cave reached out to try to grab Wheatley’s sleeve before the boy pulled it away. “This some kinda hologram?”

“You want to know where those precious notes are?” Wheatley kept his eyes narrowed, concentrating on the magic flowing through his veins. It was boiling inside of him, itching to get out. “They’re with someone else, someone smarter than both of us who can make use of the damn things. I’m going to help him. I’ve got big plans too you know! Only unlike you, I’m going to make them happen. Admittedly because I’m desperate, but hey! Makes for a great motivator. The important point you should take away from this is I don’t need you anymore. I. Don’t. Need. You.”

Cave sunk his head into his hands before standing back up, his voice back to a bellow. The pain in his eyes made Wheatley uncomfortable, but the boy stood his ground. “For god’s sakes, Wheatley! I need to know this shit. We’re family. I know there’s clearly some crazy crap going on with you but I’m your uncle. I lo-”

“No you don’t!” As Cave reached out again, Wheatley knocked his hand aside forcefully enough to send the man stumbling back into the wall with a loud thump, eliciting a curse from him. That’s right; Wheatley had forgotten how much stronger he was than a normal human now. For a second he considered helping Cave up, but he reminded himself of how angry he was. It was an accident, after all.

“No you bloody don’t! You just keep me around to kill your guilt after you and Dad had that argument! I overhear things, you know. Wasn’t that much of a moron even then. Sure, nobody tells Wheatley anything. Wheatley’s not mature enough to handle it.” He could feel himself shaking. Wasn’t this supposed to be his moment of triumph? “And you can’t do anything for me now, or for any of us. None of you can. Not Chell’s mum, not the Wilsons, not the police or scientists or teachers or anyone. But at least their parents care.”

Wheatley took a deep breath and steeled himself. No, he wanted to hurt Cave. This was that man’s fault. If someone had honestly loved him he wouldn’t be here in this situation, would he?  He wouldn’t have been so desperate to be special to someone, anyone. “Well, it doesn’t matter now. You lot keep walking around oblivious pursuing meaningless dreams while we go around saving your lives, whether you deserve it or not. Don’t you worry about me. I’m going to be fine from now on. Just fine.”

Cave recovered from the stumble quickly, sounding desperate as he grabbed at Wheatley’s shoulder. “Okay, kid. You stay right here and-”

“Don’t touch me!” Repulsed, Wheatley held his hand out and sent a wave of crystal outward. Spikes of blue barrier glass smashed into the coffee table, shattered plates on the table where they never ate dinner together, smashed into the old TV and knocked out the lights. They left a faint cold fog behind, the apartment bearing a jagged crack right into its floorboards with the spikes resembling a gaping maw.

Wheatley pulled his hands back, staring. “I-I didn’t mean to,” he whispered. “You provoked me, you spooked me…” For a few seconds he was afraid to look at Cave, lest the man lie impaled on crystal, but he forced himself to look.

Cave was still standing there, staggering, staring and bleeding. The magic had nearly hit him right in the head; even now, slits on his chin trickled blood as Cave mumbled something incoherent, gave Wheatley one last terrified look and passed out.

“Oh, crumbs…” Wheatley crouched down to check for a pulse. The man was merely unconscious, probably more from shock than anything else. His cuts were shallow, though he had bruises where Wheatley had knocked him back into the wall. A panicked onrush of guilt started to gnaw at him as he pulled away; it was as if even touching him was an admission of his responsibility.

_It’s his fault,_ something said. _He’ll live. Let him see what he’s made out of you._

Still, Wheatley just couldn’t stay in the room as he realized what had happened. “Oh, not good,” he whispered. “Not good, not good…” Without waiting to hear anything more from Cave or see what he did, he ran out the door and slammed it behind him.

* * *

Letting his transformation revert the moment he entered the hallway, he’d gone from running to walking to slumping as he left the apartment building and the reality of the situation started to hit him. He’d revealed himself to Cave. He’d spilled his feelings of betrayal and loneliness. He’d attacked someone. “But it was an accident,” he told himself. “An accident! Could happen to anyone…”

Not that Cave would see it as an accident. “Well. Done it now, I suppose. I mean, I wasn’t wrong! But I can’t go back now. Can’t go back...even if I wanted to apologize, he wouldn’t forgive me. Granted I have nothing to apologize for. ‘Bout time I was honest. Felt good. Euphoric, in fact!” Hadn’t it? No, of course it had. “But I mean I’d have to explain all this. What if he called the police? He’s into science. What if he decided to sell me to the US government or something?” He winced, practically feeling his Gem clouding. “No, I’m not giving up! I’m not falling to despair, for pete’s sake! This is the opposite of despair! This is...desperation. Different! Okay. Calm, Wheatley, calm. You’re going all conspiracy theory. No need to go Witch now. You’re close, you’re just so close! Just take a walk to clear my head. Just take a walk...think of how nice it’ll be when you fix everything. Then you can go back home and make amends. Or get your own place, magic yourself into an adult like Doug, something...it’ll be alright. I’ll be alright, I’ll be alright, I’ve got hope. I’ve got hope…”

* * *

 

Wheatley didn’t seem to hear Chell when she approached him from behind, and with the way his head was bowed slightly she wondered if he was listening to headphones. She gave him a light tap on the shoulder, triggering him to spin around, flailing like a marionette, face pale and eyes wild. “AAAH! What is it, what is...oh!”

“Whoa! It’s okay! Just me.” Chell held up her hands to calm him and it seemed to work as the boy shook his head, slumping and laughing nervously. Something of the frightened animal look didn’t leave. Or maybe it was something else? There was a slight difference in his body language, an inconsistency she couldn’t mark. Perhaps someone better at communication would have caught onto it, she thought to herself.

“Man alive!” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You snuck up like a-like a ninja there. Did not even hear you and you know me, senses like a viper. Wait, no. Snakes don’t hear particularly well, do they? I don’t know. I should look that up. Pretend that simile worked.” He shoved his big hands in his pockets forcefully, clearing his throat. “So! So, um. What brings you this way?”

Chell pointed behind her at the students pouring out from the doors of her school.

“Oh, right. Of course! I didn’t realizes this was where you went to school. I mean I knew it was one of the public schools but that was it. -Okay, um. I know it looks like I was waiting for you to get out like some kind of creeper, but I really didn’t know...the neighborhood at all, to be quite honest with you. S’not bad, but where are we?”

No wonder he was so tense. He was lost in what Chell admitted was a rough neighborhood. That or he was lying, but she got the impression Wheatley was a poor liar. He had a terrible poker face. None of his shifting, fidgeting body language suggested any ill-thought-out romantic plans. In fact, she wasn’t entirely sure he was happy to see her. Maybe he was embarrassed.

She sighed, offering a little smile anyway. “I’ll take you to the subway station.”

“Right, thanks! The trains. Thank goodness for trains.” He didn’t look directly at her as he followed her down the muddy sidewalks. In fact, he didn’t seem to be looking at anything in particular. “Just sort of took a walk. Bit of a long walk. You know how it is. got to clear your head. Lot going on in mine, very noisy lately. And you look up and where are you? How’d you manage to walk that far? One moment I think I’m near Chinatown or that frou frou area with the cupcake shops and the next I’m, uh…”

“Michigan Street,” Chell offered. “The cupcake part’s actually on the other side of town.”

“Right, Michigan Street. Built like a labyri-like a maze, this bloody city was. Can’t just be a nice grid.”

Chell frowned, biting her lip as familiar old feelings surfaced, memories of sweltering summer afternoons when she had to be anywhere but home. She could draw conclusions based on what Wheatley had said about his own family life, or lack thereof. “Did something happen?”

“Nothing happened! Nothing!” The outburst was forceful and defensive, even commanding, and it was the first time in the conversation he turned to look directly at her. He did so too quickly for her to get a good look at his expression, but there was something off about those big, innocent eyes of his. Was it fear? Panic? They almost looked cruel for a moment, but that was impossible. It was Wheatley.

He recovered quickly again, straightening and coughing into a fist. “Right, sorry! Just...nothing happened. Nothing bad happened. Not too bad. Talked with Uncle. It went, um. Could have gone better. Sort of lost my composure there for a second. Really should just stay away for a while, you know? Didn’t mean to yell at you, by the way! Sorry about that. But…” He lowered his voice, turning to look Chell in the eyes again. She got the impression he was holding back his anger out of respect for her, but it leaked through in the way he kicked at a discarded cup littering the ground. His smile was more forced-looking than she could ever remember it being, and as he spoke it gradually faded. “I gave him a lot of chances, you know? Lots of bloody chances. To try and listen and just be around. I get that I’m a drain on the bank account until I’m old enough to work and he’s got his dreams and ideas and aspirations and I...don’t have many of those. But how many chances does someone get? Frankly I’m starting to think I don’t really believe in second chances anymore. Just lets people run over you and ignore you…”

“...Second chances.” Chell stared down at the sidewalk cracks. She wanted to lapse into her usual silence, but leaving Wheatley to fill the gaps in the conversation when he was having a rough time struck her as inconsiderate. Besides, it sounded like he wanted to commiserate, not just vent.

“I don’t know. Rita gave me one after a while, or we gave each other one. But my mom kept giving my dad chances, for instance, and…”

He blinked. “Your dad? That’s right, you don’t talk much about him…”

Chell pursed her lips together. “There’s a reason. He just kept messing up, hurting my mom and leaving us to deal with it. I didn’t want to see Mom cry, so I decided I’d be stronger for her. That was before I...you know.” She held up her ringed hand as an indication. “It was kind of nice, being strong for someone else, because it gave me an excuse not to think about my own fears. But I can’t forgive him for forcing us into that place anyway.”

“Eesh! Neither would I,” Wheatley said with a bit of a shudder. She thought his response was rather quick and jarring, but maybe the conversation made him uncomfortable. “You hold up well if it helps. I mean if you hadn’t told me, I’d assume everything was…”

She offered a little smile. “It’s better now. Mostly. But yeah, I don’t know what I think of second chances. It’s selfish because I know I’ve been granted them by other people. But then there’s people like Glados who will just go on hurting others if you let them…”

“But you _kind_ of do.”

Chell stopped and stared at him, more surprised than annoyed at the interruption. He hadn’t even sounded angry. He’d said it so casually, as if it weren’t even an argument.

Perhaps in reaction to the silence, Wheatley turned back around and smiled a little, flushing with embarrassment. “I mean no offense! But I’d think of all of us you’re the one who could do it if you wanted. I’m all defense, Kevin’s a rookie, Craig doesn’t even have his magic anymore...well, maybe Rita could do it but she gets overconfident, doesn’t she? You’re a careful fighter. Biggest muscle in your body is your brain.”

The way he sounded so sincere and looked at her as if he weren’t discussing death and vengeance only made it worse. This was Wheatley. He was the sensitive one. Well, perhaps sensitive was not the right word; he could at his worst be incredibly self-centered. But she couldn’t reconcile the boy who had hugged her the night before with the one she was talking to now, even if they had the same clear blue eyes and gawky smile. Granted that there were strange dark circles under those eyes, and he was even more fidgety than usual, all jittery limbs and glances over the shoulder.

Careful, she reminded herself. He’s having a rough time. Everyone has them. You had them too and you got through them. Now you’ve got a little Court of your own, in Glados’s own words, and it’s time to pull them through. You already lost Craig…

“Hey.” She forced her own smile, not wanting to let on that he’d unnerved her. She probably shouldn’t have brought the conversation onto such topics anyway. “Weren’t you just saying last night that you didn’t want me to confront her? You know, when I was angry enough to crush her Gem with my own hands…”

He blinked, and for a moment it was like something else was coming into focus with him as his smile faded. “I...did, didn’t I. Well, I mean...hmm. Guess I’m in a bad mood and dwelling on things. Terribly sorry about that!” His hands went back into his pockets. “Imagine us, middle schoolers discussing killing someone...but I mean, I think you could do it. With our help. We talked about a week, right? A week for you to sort things out and a week for me to-well nevermind me, but a week for me to know you’re not going to confront her alone and get yourself killed. And I guess it is presumptive of me to assume you want to kill her. Bloody hard to do anyway or someone would’ve done it by now, I’m sure. She is awful. We could just find some way to run her out of town or maybe steal her Gem, which is sort of like killing her but not really…”

“I mean…” Chell felt her throat drying up. “I’ve been tempted before. I almost threw her in a portal and left her there to rot when she turned that Alice girl into a Witch…”

“Well, let Alice turn. She didn’t do it,” Wheatley corrected, “Kyubey did. But I suppose if you didn’t want to kill-because you had to differentiate yourself from her or something, is that it?-if you didn’t want to, you could use those portal thingies to…those...portal thingies….” He stopped walking so suddenly that Chell almost walked into him.

“Those portals! Oh, of course! It was right there, right in front of my bloody face and I didn’t even think of it! I am a moron after all, aren’t I?” For the first time since she’d run into him that day Wheatley seemed to honestly cheer up, wearing a genuine grin instead of a restrained smile. He ran his hands through his wavy, messy hair. “Sorry, sorry, this is probably weird. Am I being weird?”

“...A little.” Chell just kept on staring at him. This upswing was a good sign, right? At least he wasn’t dwelling on morbid topics and bringing up the inevitability of a final confrontation as if it were nothing. This was, at least, closer to the Wheatley she knew. “What about the portals? Focus, Wheatley.”

“Focus! Focus, focus. Yes. Right. Actually, it’s rather a complicated mess to explain and would require some time. But okay. Let’s say there was a way out. Would you take it?”

“A way...out?”

“Out of all of this. No more Soul Gems, no Kyubey, no Witch-fighting and no Witches being around at all. Not like with Craig where someone else has to wish for us, because let’s be honest. Who’s going to wish for us? I mean an escape from this whole mess for everyone. We grow up normally and graduate without thinking ‘oh, am I going to die horribly tomorrow fighting some giant bundle of bath toys as conceived by a Dali painting?’ He was the one who painted the melting things, right? That was Dali? Right, knew that. But we could have...you know, bad days without worrying we’ll turn into those horrible things.” He rubbed a hand over his ring, covering the Gem before Chell could get a look at it. “You don’t die, I don’t die, none of our friends die and Glados probably flees town herself because without magic she’s just a jerk who needs a haircut.”

A way out. The very phrase set Chell’s heart pounding in her chest, even as she tried to remind herself it was impossible. Wheatley was just talking in theoreticals. He was clearly a little unwell, and who could blame anyone in their condition for wishful thinking?

But a way out…

She just found herself laughing, even though she couldn’t tell what was so funny. “This is crazy. There is no way out.”

“Could be!” He was darted about like an excited puppy now, zipping from one side of her to the other. “What if there could be? What would you give for that? I’d give anything. Do anything. Wouldn’t you? Happy ending for us! I want a happy ending, how about you? I think with the way things have been going we bloody deserve one at this point.”

“I…” Maybe he was just talking in theoreticals and merely getting overexcited at the very hopeless thought. Chell decided to indulge him; maybe it would keep his Gem clear during a rough time. “...I wanted to quit for a while. It was before we met, but I wanted to quit so badly at one point. I pushed through because I wouldn’t give Glados the satisfaction.” She stared into the glimmering orange gem of her ring. “I guess that’s why I didn’t go Witch before even knowing that could happen. Spite. It only takes you so far. And then I had friends to worry about again...but if we could just exist…” She sat down on a bench and gestured for him to do the same as light snow began to fall.

“I stopped thinking about what I wanted to do after high school because even before I knew about Witches, I had a feeling I wouldn’t make it that far. The odds weren’t great. It’s why I can’t really figure out how to confront her. I can figure out how to survive the present, but I’ve forgotten how to plan for the future. I’m as stuck in the status quo as she is. And besides, I don’t really want to kill anyone.” She found herself chuckling, trying to repress the euphoria bubbling at the very prospect of an escape. And that’s all it was, wasn’t it? It couldn’t be real. She couldn’t let herself believe. “Listen to me, talking almost as much as you. I wonder why that is?”

“See, see? You can do it if you want! Just turn off your self-consciousness and let your mouth run. It’s great! You’ll never feel better than after you vent your spleen once in a while.” He was beaming. “But you want out too, right? And we owe it to Craig to help poor Kevin out. And Rita, well I’ll bet even she would rather do all her adventuring without Old White and Fluffy hounding her. Come on, we can do this!”

Chell raised an eyebrow. “This isn’t a prank or a test, right? Because it’d be a really mean prank and I am about done with tests. You really know a way out.”

“Yes! Yes, as a matter of fact.” He puffed his chest out in pride, and then seemed to hold back. “Well, not my plan exactly. Not my idea. A-a friend of mine who I didn’t mention because he didn’t want to be mentioned, you know how it is, he brought up the possibility.”

“Wait, what friend-”

Wheatley seemed not to hear her. “I mean not going to lie, it’s risky. But we’re going to die anyway, right? Okay, that’s a bit dour but this is a chance for us to live. And it needs you! This has to be why you have that power. Your wish was to inspire people, right?...Okay. Can’t quite connect the two there. But do you want to try it? I mean, forget waiting a week! I may not have-we may not-well…” He seemed to stare down at his jeans. “If this works we don’t have to think about only having a week. You won’t have to confront her because she won’t be a threat.”

Chell still couldn’t quite let herself believe any plan could work, but she couldn’t let go of the idea of escape either. “And it needs the portals…?”

“Something like that. Like I said, it’s best if I explain it to everyone and, um, introduce you lot to Mr. Rattmann. Dr. Rattman, I mean. Doug. He’s very nice! Smart fellow, you’ll like him.” Wheatley was speaking even faster than usual, barely pausing for breath between sentences. “Then we’d have our whole lives ahead of us! We could figure out, um, the whole thing between us over time instead of having to work through it when I’m all crazy-I mean, when everything’s all crazy. You know what I mean, right? It’d be...normal.”

In the pause that followed his outburst, Chell looked back at him, his eyes eager and only slightly desperate. Maybe he was just pulling nonsense out of a hat as a desperate reaction to a darkened Gem. But it was a way out. It was an escape, whatever it was, and how could she look anyone else in the eye if she knew she’d had a chance to break Kyubey’s cycle and had let it pass?

And if it was just grasping at straws, who was she to crush his hopes? Telling him it was impossible without knowing for sure would be something Glados would do just to create a new Witch.

“...Okay. I’ll get everyone together tonight. We’ll meet up. You bring this...other guy.” If he was trouble and was manipulating Wheatley, Chell reasoned, the rest of them would have a stronger chance against this Rattmann as a team. “I won’t lie, this sounds…”

“Nuts, yes, I know. Absolutely bonkers. But you’re the best! You are tremendous!” He gave her a hug and then stepped away, turning red. “Sorry, sorry, got a bit overexcited. I should get...back to that train station. To go home.” From the way he glanced aside when he mentioned ‘home’ she knew that wasn’t where he was going at all, but she wasn’t going to call him on it. “See you tonight, then! After dinner. By your place, with everyone else.”

He stood up and started running towards the station before she could say much else, nearly slipping on the ice. She thought she’d briefly seen a flash of blackened indigo in his gem ring, but in the light it was hard to tell.

* * *

“A plan. The blue one. He has a plan.” **  
**

Glados made sure to give Alex her most skeptical look. She didn’t think he was lying. Alex didn’t have the creativity to lie. But it always helped to enforce her position if she kept him wincing just a little bit.

“...Yes.” He was standing as stiff as ever, from his body language forcing himself to look her in the eyes. There was a slightly harried look to him and his breath was heavy as if recovering from exhaustion. Perhaps whatever discussion he’d had with Penelope had taken a toll on his Soul Gem. It was a shame, but there would always be more.

She smiled, crossing her legs on the couch and sitting up as if on a throne. “Alright then. I’m genuinely interested in what someone like that plans to do. It’ll probably be spectacularly self-destructive. You know what to do; keep an eye on it and call me over if my presence is needed. I’ve been in a foul mood lately and could use a laugh if nothing else. What did he say about it?”

“Not much yet.” Alex rubbed his arm. “I had to leave when the snow started coming down, or it’d reveal where I was. And I couldn’t always keep up with them. But he mentioned the traitor’s portal magic having something to do with it.”

She raised an eyebrow. “That always was an interesting power. Go on. Anything else? He never stops talking, so I’d think he’d spit out some valuable bit of information.”

“I couldn’t make it all out due to traffic, or get too close without being overheard. But he said Rattman-”

“Rattman.” She kept the smile fixed, blinking slowly like a cat. “Is that so?”

“Only briefly…”

“I see. That’ll do, Alex. Go back home before they miss you. Or were you going hunting with Penelope tonight?”

Alex’s stone expression fractured for a moment. Ah, yes. It was important to know exactly how to elicit a reaction from anyone. “Tonight we’re probably not…”

“Of course. I didn’t mean to probe. Thank you for the information.” She returned to her computer and waited for him to leave. When he did, she turned to the corner where Kyubey emerged.

“So.” She picked the creature up by the ears. “What are you planning? Are you putting ideas in the oracle’s head? I’m jealous. It must be fun to mess with him.”

“Actually, humans can come up with destructive ideas on their own. We’re simply observing,” Kyubey said, “to find out the results.”

“So you don’t know what the moron’s gambit will do?”

“There are two unpredictable elements even we cannot fully control: human emotion and magic. The magic a magical girl or boy develops as a result of their wish and nature isn’t entirely up to us, and can violate laws of physics even we can’t master yet. Until recently I knew a girl who could affect time in a way we could not.” He was, as always, unconcerned by Glados’s vise-strong grip on his ears. “The extent of her temporal magic went beyond our reach. I don’t even think we remember contracting her. Chell may be of a similar nature. This will give us a chance to observe her in action. Isn’t that why you want to watch, too?”

“Curiosity? I thought curiosity was illogical.” She mocked the high pitch of his voice as she spoke. “You’ve got a reason for doing what you’re doing, and I’m going to interfere in it.”

Kyubey blinked. “I still don’t understand you. You have no reason to do so other than spite! Isn’t she your enemy?”  
“She is, oh she is. They all are. I function very well with an enemy, you see.” She dropped him, letting him sit in her lap, and pulled forth her own Soul Gem. It glimmered in front of her, a pearly white constantly flashing with grey and black stains. Reaching into a basket, she pulled forth the Grief Seed a Magi had brought her earlier and purified the Gem; it barely took off a layer of grey. “It’s a shame you can’t hate, because I bet you’d hate me.”

“You are a source of frustration for us. The longer you delay your transformation, the more you prolong your suffering.”

“But it prolongs your irritation and that’s all I need. I’ve found as long as I have a goal, something to concentrate on and someone to hate, I can deal with the constant clawing of a Witch in the back of the mind. It’s quite an itch, but I’ve developed a tolerance to it. I’m in it for Science, and to live long enough to undermine you.” She gave a low chuckle. “I’m not sure there’s a real, literal Goddess. But imagine someone who doesn’t die, who just keeps acquiring more information, more knowledge and resources over time and who isn’t limited by human lifespans? Oh, wait, you can’t. Because you don’t understand spite. What a beautiful motivator it can be. Oh, and by the way…”

She opened the window and dropped him out of it before shutting it again.

“I never get tired of doing that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live! The fic lives! And is too long. For everyone sticking with me, we've entered the final "arc" of the story so hang in there! (Though there's still a bit to go.)


	22. No one will suffer anymore!

“What? What is it? You’re looking at your phone.” Kevin propped himself up on his bed, pushing aside the astronomy book in his lap. “Did you get that NASA app I told you about? You should. I would if I was old enough to have a phone. It lets you-” Craig held up a hand without looking up from his phone. “Oh. Uh, okay.”

_It wasn’t that Craig minded Kevin’s enthusiasm, but he was having trouble comprehending the two messages stored on his phone, one right after the other._

_AdventureSplosions999: u r gonna want to meet this weird guy he has idk a pet witch also he drew a picture of chell + knows harry potter wtf???? ps here is a video of every explosion in transformers 3 set to badass music u can thank me later_

_Chell Vasques: Meet me tonight at the diner. Wheatley’s here too. He invited a friend. I’m a little weirded out but it sounds like they might have an idea to help Kevin. Bring him too._

* * *

 

Rita set her phone aside. “Yeah, just...letting her know.” She continued to eye Doug carefully, the boy refusing to meet her or really anyone’s gaze. Her fingers remained wrapped tight around the warm Grief Seed.

“You can use it if you want,” Doug muttered as they exited the elevator. “It won’t hurt her. They wake up again once they’re saturated.”

“Her. So who was this?” Rita cleaned up her Gem until it glimmered a bright green, pointedly not giving him back the Seed until she got some answers from the ‘oracle.’ “Partner? Someone you failed? Seems cruel to keep ‘em around in that form. I mean, I dunno if Kyubey sends ‘em to any kind of rest, but I’m just saying.”

“She was nobody.” Doug walked down the hall, and his form rippled; he changed from a middle school-aged boy to an adult with a bristling black beard and overgrown hair, hands buried in the pockets of his coat. Glados had warned That Guy was an illusionist. It was surreal to see him in the flesh, hunched over like a guilty dog.

“Nobody? What the hell way is that to talk about someone?!” Rita forced herself through the door before him and stared at him, arms crossed. The Witch could have been someone like Alice. Alice certainly wasn’t nobody.

“I mean it literally.” Doug barely seemed to react to her glare, stepping around her. “She was a Familiar who fed on a human before I was able to stop her. They develop into Witches that way, usually marked by a combination of the Witch that created them and the victims they devoured. I destroyed her and drained her, then held onto the Seed instead of letting Kyubey collect. He didn’t push it since it was only one, and he’s probably waiting for me to die first.”

“Ohh...so one of those.” With the horrid truth of the origin of Witches at the forefront of Rita’s mind, it was hard to remember that bit about Familiars. “But...why? And who are you? You’re clearly some kind of important something-or-other. Enough that Glados gives a shit about you. You know how many people she legitimately gives a shit about? Two, and even you’re kind of an afterthought to be honest. You’re a bogeyman she sends newbies after if she thinks she needs to prove their loyalty or get rid of them. But you’re still, uh, something.” She slumped, unable to explain it better.

The ghost of a smile crossed Doug’s lips. “I’m ‘something,’ am I. Well, we used to know each other pretty well. Our friendship had a falling out and never recovered. She was a different person then. As for why I kept Cici’s Grief Seed, it started as an experiment. Witches can regenerate by thriving on the corruption they drain from our gems; if we could create a symbiotic relationship between Magi and Witches, it would be a step closer to dismantling the Incubator system from within.”

“So, uh.” Rita gave a glance at the brightly colored chalk mural on one wall, noting a winged box that looked suspiciously like Cici’s true form. “Assuming since we don’t all have pet Witches…”

“It wouldn’t be feasible. Nevermind how it would require some of us to become Witches anyway, effectively dooming a lot of us to death to keep the rest of us alive. Just sustaining Cici alone takes a lot of energy. I wasn’t really hunting for myself that time; it was for her. Witches can eat each other, but when it happens on a mass scale, it creates composite Witches. You remember Mitakihara?”  
Rita did not, and answered Doug with a questioning grunt.  
“The monsoon. It was in April, you know. Not that long ago.”

“Mons-ohhh.” Rita snapped, her mouth thinning to a line as she recalled how Glados had pointed to the news reports on her stupid white laptop, replaying footage of a broken and flooded city as a reminder of what could and eventually would happen here if they weren’t vigilant. “Oh, is...is that a composite Witch?”

“Possibly. Obviously I didn’t see it myself, and nobody who fought it survived. But if it’s just one, and I only let her do it once in a while…really, me calling Cici a ‘her’ is just a human phrase I use to comfort myself. The last time I had a partner she was female.” Rita raised her eyebrow. Did this weirdo name a Witch after his ex? She must have revealed a bit more in her expression than she intended from the way Doug wrinkled his nose. “Don’t look at me like that-I’m not and never was into that sort of thing with her, and neither was she. At most we used to be friends.”

“You keep Cici around, though.” Rita held out the Seed, which Doug snatched up immediately. “And you talk to her. So I get the impression you’re kinda attached to her, or it, or whatever.”

Doug was using the Seed to cleanse his own Gem, not meeting Rita’s gaze again. “I...my power lets me see and hear things that might be true, and I have a condition where sometimes I hear things that are just in my mind. I take medication to manage it when I can, but having her around stabilizes me more. You have to understand, being unable to tell what you’re experiencing is reality, prophecy or a hallucination…and I know it’s strange. I don’t know if I’m just hearing what I want to hear when she communicates with me, if it’s my magic or if she’s becoming less Witch over time…but it’s something. I’ve been studying Witches for a long time with very few breakthroughs; the ‘magic’ or science used to turn us into them is far beyond our scope of understanding. So I hold onto anything new.” He looked even more tired as he held his hands against his chest. “And she’s the closest I have to a friend.”

“Oh, another ‘scientist.’” Rita thought of Glados and her often dangerous ‘experiments’ with Witches and Grief Seeds, all of which seemed to leave nothing but dead ends and dead magi. It warred with her sympathy for another loner. “So how many people do you have to feed her to keep her running?”

Doug fell silent, looking over his shoulder at Rita. “...What sort of things did you have to do under Glados for her to keep you in that Grief Seed contraband she has going on?”

“...Okay, fine, I get it.” Guilt tinted Rita’s ears red. “Everyone’s gotta live, I guess. Anyway, you wanted to know about Chell and Wheatley, right? The rebel and the, uh, weird British kid. I let ‘em know where we are anyway. Man,” she added with a laugh, “I could tell ya about some of the people I know! Those two nerds, a space nerd, a nerdy nerd nerd former Magi-”

“Former Magi!?”

“Long story. And I could tell ya things about Glados, but I bet you probably already know ‘em. Okay, oracle guy. I appreciate anyone at least trying to do something about this magical crap. Here goes.”

* * *

 

Cave woke with his head pounding and his cheek burning, suspecting at first he’d finished off that bottle of scotch from his office a little too quickly and broken the glass. He rubbed the side of his face and his hand came away with a bit of blood, though it was clear some had already dried on his face.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and looked around, uttering a curse when his vision cleared and revealed his surroundings.The apartment was a mess, a tear in the carpet revealing a crack running through the floor, spider-cracks in the walls and his TV shattered from within. There were shards of blue glass jutting up from every angle; when he reached out to touch one it dissolved into sand and disappeared between his fingers, along with the rest of the crystal formations polluting his home. Blue crystal…

And then he remembered.

“God, that really happened?” He stood up, steadying himself on the wall as he tried to go over the events in his mind. Wheatley had gone from pleased to remorseful to defiant, and that defiance had evolved from the sort of teenage rebelliousness Cave honestly expected to something more monstrous and bitter. The kid’s clothing had changed; this wreckage was all his doing, somehow. And the look in his eyes; he’d never even seen Wheatley glare, let alone with that much hatred.

And why the hell had he stolen Cave’s notes anyway? What sort of problem could he be in that required research on alternate dimensions? Every science firm Cave had spoken to treated his theories like the works of an unemployed screwball. That made Wheatley, in his own way, the first person to treat Cave’s ideas seriously.

Cave limped through the living room into the kitchen, considering pouring himself a drink. Instead he just slumped onto the rarely-used table. If it weren’t for the blue crystal dust blowing through the apartment and vanishing in the air, he’d assume everything after Wheatley’s ‘change’ was fake. “Kid’s into theater, right…? Wait, what am I saying? There’s no way to fake an effect like that. At least he couldn’t pull it off.”

He found himself pulling his phone out. Wheatley had clearly left; there was no sign of the kid. Maybe he’d thought he’d killed Cave.

His first instinct was to consider calling 9-1-1, but what would he tell them? ‘Apparently my nephew was abducted by aliens or transformed by some other crazy science into something else and I didn’t notice it because...’

No. No calling the cops, Cave decided. He’d call Wheatley, assure the kid everything was fine, and they’d talk. They’d talk dammit. They used to do that, didn’t they? At least Wheatley used to talk to him, or at him.

That was what Cave most remembered about the day he brought Wheatley back from the airport. He’d expected his nephew to be more withdrawn after everything that had happened, but it had been six months since Richter’s death. Maybe that could have explained the bubbling river of words that seemed to flow from the bespectacled kid’s mouth.

_Man alive though, that was a long flight! Have you ever flown over the Atlantic Ocean? Oh, I guess you have because you used to visit us a lot. How come you don’t do it as much? I mean didn’t? What are American schools like? Do you always drive on this side of the road? It feels weird. It’s like I’m sitting in the driver’s seat! A kid in my old class said Americans get to start driving at 15. Is that true? Do you think they’ll like me here? What sort of house do you live in? I left my favorite sweater back with Gran. Do you think we could get another? I'm not going to have to move again, am I...?_

And Cave had told himself this was a sign of health, this meant Wheatley was healing, because God knew Cave of all people couldn’t deal with a dead brother and fix a broken-hearted child. What was Richter thinking? He was the one who got that family stuff. Cave was going to be the wealthy benefactor, become the rich uncle and promote scientific discoveries that would pave the way for a bold new future. That’s how he was going to contribute to the family, rubbing in everyone’s face how ‘irresponsible’ Cave became the most successful member of the family. And Richter and Maureen apparently thought he was the best choice to raise a damn kid; then they drove off a bridge.

“You’re an idiot, Richter,” he muttered to himself, rubbing his forehead. “Were. Always were. And I suspect you’re listening, aren’t you? Cuz I had one job and I screwed it up. Your kid’s-I don’t even know what he’s doing except that he’s obviously scared out of his mind. Oh, and he hates me. Suspect after this you hate me too. But I’m not gonna beg forgiveness, not to you anyway. Cave Johnson doesn’t beg.” He cleared his throat. Why was it catching? “Kid issued a challenge to me. ‘You can’t help me.’ Bull-shit. I’m an entrepreneur! I’m an idea man! You don’t tell me there’s something I can’t do when it’s important. Promised that kid a future and he’s gonna at least get that. Universe can’t screw me out of this much.”

Wheatley’s phone went straight to voicemail, which he’d apparently never set up. Cave merely pocketed the phone, stood up and grabbed his heavy coat as he marched out the door.

* * *

 

“Don’t get it.” Rita had her legs kicked up on Doug’s lonely couch. The others were standing by the chalk paintings, while Doug paced nervously around the room. Kevin in particular watched Doug pace, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“What don’t you get? I can break it down for you if you want.” Craig had taken notes and held up his journal for Rita, but she shook her head.

“How can something strong enough to unseat the hairball exist in one timeline but not another? I mean, what would change?”

“Her acolyte,” Doug answered immediately, eyes cloudy for a moment. “No, a herald, a prophet...a shadow? I see her sometimes in my visions, stepping across time like stones on a river. She’s clad in violet and black, though I can’t tell what she looks like besides that.” He seemed to regain clarity as he spoke, leaning against the wall for support. Wheatley frowned and moved to help Doug, but the older Magi shook his head. “She’s the factor that changed, somehow. There might be others, but she’s the thread most closely connected to the Goddess. I think if one could enter the space between…”

“...The space between spaces.” Wasn’t that what Chell always called it, the pocket dimension between her portals? She’d usually only see it for seconds traveling through and rarely even looked anymore, lest she take a detour and get lost there forever. There had been times when it sounded tempting. But being in that place gave her headaches; moreover, it triggered a sense of wrongness in the pit of her stomach.

It was not right to be nowhere for very long.

She scanned the lonely and stark apartment Doug apparently called home, eventually settling on the colorful and discordant mural. Her eyes turned to the angelic figure Doug had painted of her. It was herself without a face, a savior instead of a person. Maybe that was how others saw her when they fell under her ‘glamour;’ for all she knew, that’s why Doug and Wheatley thought she was the one who could save them.

Her magic just dazzled them. But there had to be a good reason for her to have her space magic. It had nothing to do with her wish, that was for sure. And Doug was an oracle, not an impressionable new recruit.

Doug seemed to follow her gaze. “Please don’t be frightened, but my visions sometimes show someone like you as well. I don’t really see details or faces in them, so don’t worry. I saw the shadow who defies fate, and the beacon who leads others towards hope.” He turned to face her, looking even more tired than usual and even a bit sad. “My visions are indistinct, as you can probably tell. There was a stronger oracle, but she’s gone now. We speak sometimes from wherever she is,  her and her partner. We have our disagreements, though I would have liked to be her friend under better circumstances. She didn’t last long enough to dream about you.”

“What happened to your friend?” Kevin turned away from a mural of stars to look up at Craig, frowning.

“The Shadow killed her months ago, back in the beginning of April. We don’t know why.”

All were silent for a moment. “So, wait,” Kevin asked, “is she evil? Is she going to hurt Chell?” Chell could only guess the innocent little brother was a bit more wary of strangers after the debacle with Penelope.

“It’s fine,” she reassured him, and the rest of them by proxy. She couldn’t take her eyes off that mural. “If it’s meant to be...I mean, I won’t let her do anything to me.” She managed a reassuring smile for Kevin; she didn’t want him worrying, at least.

“It is! I mean it must be. Not-not the shadow girl hurting you, I mean. But all this!” Wheatley was speaking too quickly again, after having been uncharacteristically quiet. It was strange how his mood seemed to zigzag. “I’ll, um. How’s this. You open up your portal and enter it, and I’ll be your contact. If you need me to I’ll put my barrier around you. Not that bloody crystal thing I do, but the strong one I put around Rita.”

Rita looked over her shoulder to regard Wheatley with a strange look, raising an eyebrow. “Sure you can do that, Potter? This time?”

“Yes! And don’t call me that. As long as I can concentrate I can hold it, I’m sure of it.” The guilty panic had snuck into his voice again, and Chell wondered once more if there was something he wasn’t telling her. “Look...my wish was to be the kind of person who could be important to you, right? And I admit it was a creepy, clingy wish and I’m sorry. But this must be how it manifests! I got the power to shield others so I could help you find Her. Keep you from whatever’s out there. Shadow girl or not! Though I’m sure she won’t attack you, right? She’ll understand. She has to. If she’s connected to the goddess, how could she be bad?”

He sounded so sincere. He trusted her, really held her in esteem she wasn’t sure she was worthy of, and she had no idea what to do with it. They all did; all of them were looking to her at this moment.

Could she really not go ahead with it and leave her friends to their fates? Could she bear watching Rita, Wheatley or even little Kevin inevitably turn into Witches, knowing she had a chance to save them and didn’t take it? And hadn’t Craig surmised she might become a powerful Witch herself? This was an escape from that. Mad as it sounded, it was an escape.

I want to be the sort of person who inspires others. That was her wish. That sort of person would do it. _Right, Caroline?_

And if she failed, it’d just be her life forfeit. That, too, was an escape.

“Okay.” It felt so empty just to say ‘okay.’ But all seemed to understand, even if words were failing her. Kevin grinned and pumped a fist in the air, Rita gave a victorious hoot and Wheatley very nearly hugged her right there. Then he seemed to remember the presence of others and just blushed apologetically instead.

She couldn’t read Doug’s reaction; he was back tending to his notes. Only Craig was silent, though he rarely smiled anyway. She made a note to talk to him beforehand anyway, just in case.

“If you’re going ahead with it-and again, you don’t have to-we should do it outside. Using that much magic at once might attract a Witch and we can’t bring one here. I mean…” As if guessing Chell’s thoughts, he looked anxiously towards Cici’s Grief Seed in the palm of his hand. “She should be fine. I’ll keep control of her.”

Chell was sure she should have felt more secure about this. It was supposed to be her big chance, her shot at freedom for herself and everyone else who had ever made a wish. She fingered the ribbon in her hair. Was this when leaders expressed concerns? It all seemed too easy. And if the so-called shadow girl could cross through time and not find a solution, what made Chell think she could find something between timelines? She was no herald.

No, this was the part where the leader reassured all those depending on her that she could do it. She took a deep breath and lingered on one idea.

_Escape_.

* * *

 

Craig’s instincts told him to say something, anything, but his mind offered very few ways to say it nicely.

This, he reflected as he followed Chell down the hall, was a problem. It never used to be. Generally if Craig had something to say he just said it. It had given him a reputation on Student Council of being ‘forthright and honest’ and also, apparently, ‘kind of insufferable’ according to rumors.

Perhaps that was proof that despite his position, he didn’t really have many friends on Student Council. He’d assumed close friends were people he’d feel more comfortable opening up around and sharing secrets with, and to some extent that was true. He certainly shared a lot of secrets with Chell’s group, and he’d been more honest than usual in front of them. He’d certainly never have cried in front of the class treasurer.

It was for that exact reason he felt he could not just say what he was thinking without figuring out how to word it, and it troubled him. After letting Wheatley and Rita walk on ahead, he poked Chell on the shoulder and cleared his throat.

“Chell? Uh. Listen. Can I talk to you for a second?”

Chell blinked, but muttered something about catching up to Doug as he herded the others into the elevator. “What is it? You don’t like the plan?”  
“The plan seems sound, I guess. Fact is, I don’t know much about multiverse theory. That’s probably more Kevin’s sort of thing. He reads a lot of sci-fi. It’s just...you have to depend on Wheatley for it, right?”

“You don’t think he’s dependable?” Chell frowned. “I thought you two were getting along.”

“We are! I mean, we’re friends. He’s nice and fun to be around. He’s kind of a flake and doesn’t have a good attendance record, but this isn’t about that.” God, he felt like a jerk. Being honest could hurt as much as lying had.

“Then what’s it about?”  
Craig took a deep breath. “You didn’t notice? He’s changed. Something’s wrong. He was restless and agitated. He’s apparently latched onto someone we don’t know very well and didn’t tell us about Doug until now.”

“Well, I know, but…”

“And it’s fine if he didn’t want to attract the Queen’s attention to Doug through you. No offense, but you’re sort of her focal point. But it’s just...I can’t put my finger on it. Something’s wrong with him. He’s off.” Years of being entirely too focused on what others thought of him had trained Craig in the art of reading reactions.

Chell merely frowned. “He’s under stress, Craig.”

“I know. We all are. And I know for certain he reacts poorly to stress since-” Craig stopped himself. He had agreed not to tell Chell about what had happened in the snowy forest Labyrinth and he owed Wheatley that much if he was going to talk behind his back. “But this is different…!”

“It’s not the same! He just fought with his uncle. You wouldn’t-” Chell seemed to realize she was practically shouting and turned a little red. “Sorry. That was unfair to say. It just hit a nerve. Not everyone reacts to stress the same way. And we’re friends.”

“I know, but-”

“This isn’t schoolwork. He’s taking it seriously. I want to at least support him. Besides, his power is barriers, right? All he has to do is protect.” Chell smiled, though Craig could tell it was a bit forced; that made it feel worse. “Don’t worry. I think I can trust him. I got him into this in a way, and he’s not the only one. Only fair I get us all out.”

The elevator doors opened with a chime and Chell walked in before Craig could answer; he followed, but found the words had left him. Was he really just second-guessing a friend and one of Glados’s old enemies because he could no longer instantly tell if someone was lying? Was he just paranoid?

“...You’re a good friend, Chell.” And for her sake, Craig would have to keep an eye on Wheatley himself.

* * *

 

Opening the portal didn’t drain her as much as she thought it would. It was only one portal after all, an incomplete passage. In theory it was no different from when she brought Wheatley into the pocket of void to heal him safely. The difference was that this time, she’d be going in there and…

Would she come back? There was no guarantee a being with that kind of power, if it even existed, wouldn’t leave her there.

“So,” Rita was saying as they gathered in the park, a place they figured would avoid attention at this late hour. “Chell’s gonna go in, uh, there. Wheatley’s gonna keep track of her with telepathy-you know how to do that now, right Stretch?” She’d been giving what Chell suspected were intrusive ‘lessons’ to him for an hour, and he just nodded with a sore look as he held his head. “Yeah, okay. What you sent just now is good enough. Kevin and I are gonna be on guard in case Court assholes or Witches show up. Craig, um…”

Craig glanced away. “Fact: I know I can’t be of much use here.” The soft tone of his voice hurt more than it would have if he’d shouted. “But I don’t want to leave Kevin’s side. And I...I don’t know. I want to observe this, in case something happens. I just have a sense I should be here.”

Rita sighed. “Yeah, sure. Wheatley will have a barrier up anyway, so you should be fine. If anything bad starts coming out of that portal, Chell’s gonna hightail it out of there and shut it behind her. And old weirdo and his weirdo witch, you two…”

“This is my responsibility. I’ll use my magic to make sure nobody sees what’s going on.” As usual, Doug shifted his weight from one foot to the other and never quite stood still. He had Cici’s Seed in his hand. “It’s already hidden, actually; you just can’t see from the inside.”

This left attention back on Chell. _Say something_ , a little voice inside kept telling her. _Say this feels wrong!_ And it did, for reasons she couldn’t pinpoint. Where was Glados? She had Alex and monitored everything that went on; surely she had to have some clue something was happening by now, illusions or not. For that matter, what about Kyubey? Was he going to just let this happen if it really was a threat to his plan?  
No, stop. It was her own cynicism giving her reasons to pull out. She imagined years under the suffocating threat of death; she thought of her mother, waiting for two people who would never come home. She saw Kevin, who was just too young to have actually sacrificed his life, looking up at her as if she was made of starlight. She turned to Wheatley, gazing right into her eyes and looking happy for the first time since he’d first Contracted.

“It’s going to work. I just know it! Go on, let’s get started!” He clutched his hands together and stared up at the portal, an eerie flat circle with nothing visible on the other end. “I mean I’d go in there for you if I could but it can’t be me. Has to be you! I’d get...lost and you can’t make barriers. You know how it is. Anything happens and you just let me know. I’m already a veritable expert at tele-whatsit. Wish I’d know how to do it sooner, but...this is fine!”

Chell rubbed the back of her neck. “Kind of hate talking, so I usually avoid telepathy too.” Wheatley’s enthusiasm was encouraging, if a bt strong. “Alright. Going in.” Again it felt inadequate.

'Wheatley', she added over the link, 'can you hear me?'

'Oh yes! Quite well! Didn’t I just say I’m an expert now? Loud and clear.'

'I don’t do this often. Don’t worry about the shield yet. The one on me, I mean.' She gave him a little smile to reassure him; he seemed so jumpy. 'Save your magic. I’ll let you know if I need it.'

She took a leap and never landed, floating instead into the void.

* * *

 

It was still odd for Wheatley to see Doug standing there, holding up his glaive as the air shimmered around him. They were inside of an illusion now, which must have been how Doug created that lab over Cici’s Labyrinth. It also unsettled him to see Doug’s true young adult form, shorter than him and with the ice-blue eyes peeking out from locks of unkempt black hair. He didn’t carry himself like someone Wheatley’s age at all, and Wheatley found himself wondering why Doug had never let his body advance to adulthood naturally instead of maintaining magic-draining illusions.

He’d ask later, he decided as he concentrated on the blue crystal dome forming around their circle, a secondary defense measure in case the illusion failed and anyone got past Rita and Kevin. He had a lot of things he wanted to talk to Doug about anyway.

_Why did you hide your Witch from me? I would have understood. I mean I would have freaked out at first, but then I would have understood! Do you not trust me either, mate? What are you going to do once you can’t see the future anymore? Can you help me find a place to stay, since I can’t go home? Can I just stay with you? You seem to care about me…_

The last left him shuddering. Salvation first, he told himself, then he could worry about more mundane things like the fight he’d had with his uncle. Maybe the goddess would undo that. “You faring alright, mate?” he called to Craig, who stood hesitantly inside the crystal walls.

Craig nodded, though he was staring absently up at a yellow light shining through the glass.

“Oh. Ohhh. Uh, Kevin?” Guilt tied Wheatley’s stomach into a knot, as if he hadn’t been dealing with enough of that emotion lately. “He’ll be fine, mate! Remember how strong you are-uh, were? He’s got that and he can fly! I mean you could too, but it was more...wings, mate! He’s got wings. And he’s got Rita looking after him.”

“Mmm…” Craig didn’t sound convinced, to Wheatley’s frustration. “Wheatley.”

“Yes?”

“Chell can depend on you, right? She has to. It’s a matter of her own life. And she’s risking a lot for us...you can’t choke and let fear get the best of you again.” Craig gave him the same kind of look he’d given him after the mall fight, and Wheatley turned crimson. A second swell of guilt boiled into defensiveness. Wheatley stood up straight; if nothing else, he could lord his height over his oh-so-judgmental friend.

“Of course! Of bloody course she can. Haven’t I proven that yet? I mean I had...it was one fight, and I really was sorry. But this is serious. More serious! And I’m not afraid, anyway. Nothing that comes out can hurt me at this point.”

Craig flinched and stepped back. “Wait, what?”

“I know you can’t tell anymore, but I am telling the truth! I’ll explain later, alright?” He saw a crack in the shield and mended it quickly, wincing. All these doubts were undermining his skill again. “Need to concentrate. In-in case she needs me, mate!”   
Craig didn’t say anything else, though Wheatley wished he wouldn’t pace so. It was nerve-wracking enough being outside of the portal and hearing nothing. He decided to be the one to contact Chell, shaky as he was with the low-range telepathy Magi seemed to have.

‘Hey! Hey there! Um, how are you doing? Seeing anything? Bet it’s pretty...something. Some real spectacular sights in there, right? Anyway, if you do see anything goddess-like, do feel free to bring it back as soon as possible. Just saying.’

Her answer was slow, suggesting some kind of time delay. ‘Nothing yet. It’s just...there’s so much. It’s too much…’

Too much? For her? ‘You aren’t going to turn back now, are you? I mean I guess we could do it another day, but… But he didn’t have another day. No, no! Keep going. You can do it! I-I mean, we all have faith in you! And depend on you with our lives, so you know. Do keep going. Please.’

There. His encouragement had to have helped her, especially since he outright admitted his dependence on her. She could hardly respect a partner who depended on her, could she? He wouldn’t.

Another delay before she answered, in an unnervingly hesitant tone. ‘I will.’ Nothing after that, which just put Wheatley more on edge. Sure she was the one actually doing the work, but this radio silence was killing him.

It gave his mind too much time to dwell on certain problems.

_You have no other chances,_ he reminded himself. _This is it, mate. If this plan fails, best make peace with whatever higher power would let Kyubey exist and hope Witches have an afterlife. You can’t go home and you know Doug wouldn’t really let you stay anyway. I was just projecting. I always do, don’t I?’_

His soul gem glowed with the use of magic, but it did so through a cloud of black masses festering under the surface. He aggressively ignored it and kept looking into the infinite nothingness beyond that portal.

‘Well! I understand you’re not feeling terribly talkative right now, but I’ll stay in contact with you anyway. So you know I’m still here. Right here! Waiting for you. Because I-’ He shut the message down before it started saying things he wasn’t ready to talk about yet.

* * *

 

Chell had expected to see nothingness on the other side. Instead, she saw everything.

She was floating in a void, the same one she sometimes used as a shelter, except this time she was actually looking around it. There was infinite space extending in all directions, giving her a sense of vertigo as she realized she had no idea which way was up. She could float in it easily, though that gave her an odd sensation of not feeling entirely attached to her body. She had to put a hand on her Soul Gem to be sure it was still there, and not drifting off on its own.

There were shards there, the strange colorful wedges of who-knew-what she remembered seeing from time to time out of the corners of her eye. They were more clear now, images reflected through prisms of a material she couldn’t name. When she looked into one, she saw an endless maze of machinery over a bottomless pit. Another seemed to be watching her in particular through the glowing eye attached to some kind of hanging device; a third, too, glowered at her from a large blue eye.

This, she told herself, had to be the other timelines. She really could travel there if she wanted. There was one that displayed a shack in a breezy field of wheat over a blue sky. She saw a ginger-haired man, completely unfamiliar to her, crawling in the pouring rain. There was the radio tower from one of Doug’s murals, but nothing else about it suggested she’d find what she needed there. One sliver of reality held huge, mantis-like creatures that made her shudder. In many she would see into a metal-plated world with no sunlight; one held a lovely black bird. One just held an image of the moon from space.

She had to stop and hold her head, shutting her eyes just to get her bearings. Those places might not have a Kyubey; there might not be Witches either. She told herself she wasn’t there to think of other worlds and timelines. She couldn’t escape there anyway, could she? She’d be leaving her friends and family behind, a disappointment no better than her father. And eventually she’d die anyway, without Witches to hunt.

Nothing struck her as particularly goddess-like, though the yellow-eyed thing and its blue-eyed parallel both gave her strange chills. She moved on, swimming past the shards of reality and looking behind her.

The portal was a distant dot of light; she had to keep track of it, though she supposed in a fix she could open another one. Then again, would it still lead her back home at this point? She’d never gone so far into her void-space.

Wheatley’s voice entered her mind again, sounding both eager and agitated somehow. ‘What’s out there? Do you see her? Any goddess? Remember Doug’s chalk painting! She looks like...pink. Very pink with wings. I guess there’s also a dark-haired girl too? I wonder if she’s that other girl. Anyway. You can do it, luv! -Uh, didn’t mean to call you that, that was weird of me, right? But you can do it!’

She felt a blush rush to her cheeks and rubbed the back of her neck, sighing. It was hard to concentrate on his communications when there was so much stimulation around her. How could she even describe what she was seeing?

‘I’ll let you know.’ She knew she’d come across a little short to him, but she didn’t want to waste time talking in case she lost track of what she was.

The bits of reality were at least starting to look more familiar. She saw teams of magical girls and boys, though girls seemed more common; she wasn’t sure if she should be proud or depressed about that. In one, there were five girls in similar skirted uniforms, the apparent leader wearing long pigtails. Maybe she was a goddess? Something about her resonated. She turned to look at the next reality, where she saw what appeared to be a ballet.

Some part of her wondered why it was just this part of a world she was seeing. Maybe it was just the part that had the most to do with her? That would explain why some of those worlds showed someone who looked entirely too much like her.

_Come._

She froze, looking around. ‘Wheatley, was that you?’

‘Was what me? I didn’t want to, um, interrupt you! Any luck yet?’

_Come,_ said the other voice. Chell realized it couldn’t have been Wheatley; it sounded female,  gentle and innocent. _Let me save you!_ At the same time she felt a sensation drawing her to one of the distant timelines, an inexplicable urge to follow the voice that beckoned her.

Maybe it was because of the link, but Wheatley seemed to sense it as well. ‘Did-did you hear that? That’s got to be Her, right? I mean it sounded like a goddess. Far as I know. It’s just...well, go on! Follow her! We’re so close!’

She wished she could share his enthusiasm. Something didn’t feel quite right again, though she chalked it up to the way seeing so many worlds at once unnerved and overwhelmed her. The voice calling to her was a lure if nothing else; she was sure she’d find something if she followed it, which was better than staring forever at endless timelines and hoping she could find a goddess she couldn’t even recognize. Besides, she didn’t want to see more versions of herself.

_Are you coming? Good! I can save you. I am Compassion. I’ll save everyone. If you’re grieving and troubled, I’ll dry your tears._

That certainly sounded Goddess-like, Chell had to admit. Something inside of her told her where the voice was coming from, and she swam further towards the beckoning voice, past shards full of flooded cities and raging storms.

Wheatley contacted her again. ‘I mean, she’s got to be there. This is how prophecies work. Just a little longer. You’re alright there? Yeah, you’re alright! You’re Chell. You’re the best of us, probably the strongest even! And I’m okay with that now-man alive this telepathy stuff makes you blurt stuff. Please forget I said that bit and keep going.’

Chell grit her teeth. ‘Wheatley, I need to concentrate to find Her. Sorry. I’ll let you know when I find her, I promise.’ How could it be even talking with her mind felt draining? Still, she didn’t mean to snap at him like that; it was just exasperating. Why was he so desperate to get out now? What had happened? They were all in the same boat.

_No one will suffer anymore! Not if you come to me. Come to me, all those of troubled lands. Come to me and STAY-_

A hand grabbed her shoulder, and the world froze around her, a lifeless gray.

Where moments ago there had been no one, a Japanese girl with long black hair now stood next to Chell, one hand on her shoulder and another on the shield-like object she wore on her arm. She was wearing purple; a Soul Gem glinted on the back of her hand.

“You. What are you doing?”

* * *

 

Wheatley couldn’t take his eyes off of the portal. The telepathic link he had with Chell only communicated words; he couldn’t pick up on how she was feeling or what she was experiencing ordinarily. For him to feel that inescapable pull himself meant whatever she’d made contact with had to be strong indeed. It was hard for him to resist the urge to follow her right through there, but his feet remained planted. She needed him! He was needed.

“Do...Do you feel that? Man alive! Doug, you felt it. Right?...Doug?” The oracle wasn’t answering; he was bent over, shuddering, Cici’s small cubic form hovering over him. “Doug, what’s the matter, mate? Don’t fail on us now!”

“...I’m fine,” he insisted in a soft but forceful voice. “Cici’s siphoning off the grief. It’s just...she’s out there. She’s close.”

“She? She who? Oh, don’t bloody tell me you mean-”

“The White Queen’s out there. She’s close. We used to...I knew her well for a time, so I recognize her presence by now. She reminds me of...don’t worry about it.” Doug stood up straighter. “I’m fine. I do feel it; there’s...something. But it’s not right. I didn’t think it’d feel like that. It’s cold, isn’t it?”

Wheatley frowned. “It’s December, mate. Always going to be a bit chilly…”

“No, the presence. You don’t feel it? It isn’t right...we should stop. Tell Chell to stop…”

“NO!” As Wheatley shouted, spikes grew from the roots of the crystal barrier, causing Doug to stumble back and Craig to draw away. “Sorry, that happens sometimes. But...no, mate. We can’t! Especially if the Queen’s nearby. She’ll kill us! I know it’s a bit off, but how are we to know what a goddess’s voice feels like? Hot, cold, I don’t care. I want something to save us, mate! Don’t you? You saw how desperate it’s getting. I’m…” He bit his lip.

Doug narrowed his eyes, though Wheatley told himself Doug wouldn’t really act against him. They were friends. Doug would understand later.

“Wait. Wheatley, what’s wrong?” Craig reached out to set a hand on Wheatley’s shoulder, but it was gently knocked away.

No, Wheatley was fine. He took a breath and reminded himself of that fact. Everything was fine. “I’m...I’ll be okay. Really! Just trust me. Don’t any of you bloody trust me?! She does, at least.” More tiny spikes grew from the surface of the dome, though he barely noticed them. “Not much longer. Rita will break into the barrier with Kevin if she runs into anything she can’t handle, and then….well, we’ll do something.”

* * *

 

Glados recognized the faint rippling air of one of Doug’s illusions even in the moonlit darkness. “He can’t make them like he used to, I guess. The years haven’t been kind.”  
The redhead next to her wrinkled her nose. “What,” Penelope sneered, “you feel sorry for him now?”  
“In the way you feel sorry for someone who you used to respect, yes. Anyway, I don’t know what they’re doing, but they’re trying to keep it from me.” That was a lie; Kyubey had given her a hint as to what they were actually attempting to do, after all. She knew he wouldn’t have told her if he didn’t want her to interfere; she also knew Kyubey wouldn’t allow it to happen in the first place if he thought it would be a real threat to his power.

Chell probably went ahead of it out of desperate optimism. Optimism was a poison.

“Should we interfere yet?” Alex stood by her side, like the good little soldier he tried to be. Glados simply shook her head, cloaking all three of them in more darkness to hide them.

“I want to see what happens. Maybe she will find a god. Wouldn’t you like to see a goddess?” A mirthless smile crossed her face. “Or maybe she’ll find something else. Maybe there is no goddess after all.”  
“Uh, what do you mean?” Penelope scratched her head. Other Court members were stationed to watch nearby, to move at her word; anyone who moved before then, Glados had informed them earlier, would be food for Witches.

“Never mind. Just follow my orders.”

She still had a few questions she wanted answered, in the name of science if nothing else.

* * *

 

Chell had the odd sensation that the girl standing in front of her wasn’t speaking the same language, and yet somehow she could understand it. Maybe it had to do with being outside of space and time; maybe it was just the link Magi had.

“What,” the girl repeated, “are you doing? You shouldn’t be here.”

“Where’s...here?” Chell tried to brush the ‘shadow’s’ hand aside, but she had an iron grip. “It’s the space between spaces. I’m the only one who can…”

The other girl seemed to hesitate for a moment. Color returned to the world and she let go, but remained standing next to Chell. How was she standing when Chell could only float?   
Looking down, Chell could see a plane running beneath her, an endless, translucent flat plane of white and grey that extended in all directions. She passed right through it.

“Space and time converge,” the other girl explained, her tone no less cold and sharp. “We’re not exactly in the same place, but we’re close enough to make contact. I’m telling you. Don’t go that way.”

“...We need to.” This was the herald, wasn’t it? “She’s a goddess. She can save us…”

“She will save no one. She is no goddess, and she never will be.” The black-haired girl gave a rueful look over her shoulder in the direction of the beckoning goddess.

As she did, Chell started to feel the creeping sensation of cold wrapping around her body. She realized she’d felt it before, but it was easy to ignore; now it was suddenly almost suffocating, painful against her skin. “What is...what is she?”

“There’s nothing for you in that timeline, and nothing for me. If you follow it you only doom yourself. You…” A gun appeared in the girl’s hand, pointed directly at Chell. “What do you want with Madoka?”

The gunmetal glinted and Chell felt the blood drain from her face. Living in the neighborhood she did, she’d occasionally heard gunshots at night from the street outside. That couldn’t even begin to compare to seeing a real, non-magical gun pointed right at her chest. She tried to tell herself that the bullet couldn’t kill her before remembering the person wielding it was obviously an experienced magical girl. She’d just aim for Chell’s Soul Gem.

Activating Wheatley’s shield might be taken as an act of aggression, she told herself. Perhaps she could talk the girl in purple down.

“Madoka…?”

“For her to become the goddess Kyubey claims she can be would betray her; it would destroy her. It will destroy her. If you try to find her, if you sacrifice her for whatever timeline you came from, I won’t hesitate to kill you.”  
Chell stared, even as the chill grew stronger. “Wait. Sacrifice her?”

The gun didn’t waver, but Chell thought she saw a softening in the girl’s violet eyes. “You don’t know, then.”

_Why won’t you come yet? I can’t save you if you don’t come to me! I can’t bless you if you won’t let me in._

Chell’s apparent opponent lowered the weapon. “There is no goddess. If you keep going there, to that timeline...anything I could do to you won’t compare. I warned you.”

The plane beneath her flickered and vanished, bringing the dark-haired girl with her. The suffocating cold grew stronger as it did, mixed with a sensation of burning. It was like some terrible fever magnified by a thousand.

‘Wheatley. I need the barrier now.’ Whether she chose to listen to the shadow or the voice, she wouldn’t be able to stand too much of this for long. Her gem was already glowing from the strain it was putting on her body.

There was silence. ‘Wheatley!’ Could she still reach him this far in? Had something gone wrong out there?

‘I can do it, I can do it! Hold on!’ As Wheatley finally answered, blue light bloomed all over her body. The pain and cold subsided immediately and Chell sighed in relief. ‘Why, what happened? Did that nasty Shadow girl attack?’

‘I saw her, but she didn’t attack. She said...she said we should go back. That it isn’t a goddess we’re following...’

‘Not a Goddess? It has to be! She might be lying. It may be a test. Or she’s actually bad after all! She killed that other oracle, didn’t she? Did she strike you as friendly?’

Pointing a gun and threatening didn’t seem terribly friendly to Chell. Yet she couldn’t ignore the look in that other magical girl’s eyes; they didn’t seem like the eyes of a heartless or cruel person. There was none of Glados’s smirk or accusing, arrogant stare.

She looked in the direction of the voice, past images of demolished buildings and devastated cities.

‘...We should turn back.’ She should have trusted her instincts. It had been too good to be true, hadn’t it?

‘Turn back? We can’t...we can’t turn back. Come on, let’s-a little deeper in! I won’t let you go. Got my barrier around you, yeah? See? Blue light, that’s your shield. For now. Until I run out of power and then well, that would be bad. But for now let’s keep going! This is exciting, yeah? Here, you like when I talk, right? I’ll keep talking right into your head while you go through wherever that weird dimensional space is like I said I would.’

Usually Chell did like it when he talked, especially when she was feeling uneasy. But his voice sounded, in its own way, as wrong as the sensation he guarded her from felt. She figured he was just trying to reassure her, and yet…

_I’ll save you when no one else will._

Did she expect escape to be painless?

‘Alright. I’ll go a bit further...’ She was able to move on faster now, Wheatley’s barrier leaving her feeling stronger and more secure somehow. Maybe he really was given that magic to help her somehow. There was no way for him to know, anyway. She’d go a little further, she decided, and if it got worse she’d turn back.

She’d figure out what to tell them later.

The idea that what she was following might not be a benevolent goddess took a firmer hold in her mind as she traveled closer. The timelines were getting visibly darker now. She glanced over her shoulder; she could somehow still see the little glint of light that was her portal, as if it was calling to her like a beacon.

The world right ahead of her was almost pitch-black; she couldn’t make anything out aside from brief glances at strange, garish lights. The blackness shaped itself; a pair of eyes, unimaginably big and filled with nothing but eerie light, peered out at her from a masked face. It spoke to her; it saw her.

_I am salvation. I am mercy. Come to me!_

* * *

 

‘Wheatley. This isn’t a goddess. I have to go back now.’

The panic in Chell’s voice was obvious, but Wheatley had trouble concentrating on it. She was going back?! How could she? There had to be a goddess. There had to be, and that thing HAD to be it, because what else could it be? Sure there was a strange chill running through his own body now, but it was so powerful! It was drawing him to it; he needed it.

‘You’re just feeling the shockwave of its power, luv! It’s okay if it...looks different.’ There, he’d reassure her. This was his destiny, wasn’t it? His purpose. To make sure she reached her goal at all costs; that was HER destiny, after all.

‘I’m going back.’

Wheatley’s fists clenched and panic rose in his chest. He could tell Craig was staring again, but didn’t care. ‘Wait-wait no, you can’t-you can’t fail us here. You can’t fail me here! I’m going to die if this doesn’t work, do you understand? I’m going to bloody die and it’ll be your fault! And I don’t deserve to die, do I? Do I? It’s just scary because it’s big and powerful! If that’s not our goddess what could it be?!’

He could still hear it even as he spoke to her, in its soothing, comforting tones.

_Come. I am Compassion. I am Salvation. Let me Save You._

‘Wheatley.’ Chell sounded shaken and pained. What was she so afraid of? He was the one burning away his magic to protect her. Didn’t she realize how much it took out of him to cast that spell?  ‘This is...it’s a lie, it’s…’  
‘You found something, right?’ He had to get her to keep going. There was no hope for them if she stopped; no hope for him. ‘You’re the only one who can open a portal so we can reach it! The only one! None of us can do that. It’s your responsibility, your bloody duty to do this! Are you really turning away? I mean, listen! She even said she’s Compassion…!’

No response came from Chell, and even Wheatley had to admit the chill was increasing. God, it had to be so powerful. Was she really trusting a stranger over an oracle? Over him?

“Wheatley.” Doug speaking felt like a splash of cold water after Wheatley had spent so much time communicating in his own head.   
The boy snapped around to glare at him for the harsh interruption. “What? I’m sort of doing a lot of work right now, mate! I mean-don’t be angry, please! Just, stress…”

“I know.” Doug clamped a hand on his shoulder. “We need to stop. I’m sorry.” His eyes were cloudy again.  
“...What? You too?!” Wheatley tore away, staring at Doug as panic weighed heavily in his stomach. He wondered if he would throw up. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. “We’re so close! You had to have heard it!”

“I did. I was wrong…I was wrong to get you all involved in this. I was wrong to chase one good dream out of a thousand nightmares. What Chell is seeing isn’t-”

“YES IT IS! Yes, it has to be! You can’t...you can’t tell me after all this, after she’s bloody using her magic for its intended purpose, that there still isn’t a Goddess? There’s really nothing that can help us! I mean listen! You’re just-you just don’t think we can do it, do you? You don’t have any more faith in me than Uncle did.”

“No!” Doug’s eyes widened even as the glassiness went away. “No, Wheatley, please. Tell Chell to go back…”

“Or what? What’ll you do? Break my gem?”

“No! I’d never do that! You’re a good person, but you’re scared and…”

“I’m NOT SCARED!” As Wheatley shouted, spikes grew in the crystal dome and Doug stepped protectively in front of Craig. That made it worse. Did Doug really think he would hurt Craig? They were friends! He was doing this for all of them.

“Wheatley,” Craig said, his voice weaker than usual. “What’s going on with Chell? What are you doing?”

“I-I can’t concentrate on you right now.” The crystal shifted, and Wheatley generated a smaller barrier around himself. He knew it would drain him further, which was all the more reason why he needed Chell to stay strong and bring the damn goddess back. He turned over his shoulder once and glared at Doug, daring the oracle to break through and stop him.

Doug had his scythe out, but didn’t move. He looked saddened.

_Well good_ ,  Wheatley thought. _Man ought to feel sorry after doubting me like that._ Taking a deep breath and once again refusing to look at his Gem, he turned his attention back to Chell.

‘You're just going to run away, aren't you?’ It was harder to hide his thoughts when he was communicating through his mind, and as Wheatley’s mood plummeted he found he didn’t care as much. Let her hear this! ‘Leave us to die because you know YOU can survive! You can thrive just as long as Glados can, or longer. You're not desperate like-like I am! So of course you can just shrug it off. For God's sakes, it’s obviously strong enough to help us and it’s asking to help! When was the last time something made that offer? Let it in!’

More silence. The fact that he might have angered her was not lost on him. But could she really blame him? He was nothing more than a footnote in her story, after all. She was supposed to save everyone! Which meant he had to save everyone.  
If that meant being merciless for a little bit, so be it. She’d forgive him in the end.

‘...F-fine. Fine, don’t think I didn’t feel that. I know I’m corrupted! I know I’m almost gone. You must have realized it too. So fine, if I have to be the Witch here to get anything done, so be it!’ He recalled his magic and released the barrier. The blue light between his hands vanished, flickering out.

Certainly he didn’t like doing that, but it was his duty. He just had to motivate Chell to be the savior she was supposed to be.

‘I’ll restore that barrier’ he continued, ‘when you open the portal and let our Goddess through!’

His answer was a scream, pained and tormented. Even he felt a bit of her own sensation at that point, his entire body freezing and burning at the same time; it took all of his willpower to stay standing. Apparently he couldn’t feel pain anymore, but he could feel whatever that was.

It was nothing but a test. That thing was a goddess; it had to be a goddess. Otherwise there was none, and they were without salvation. He couldn’t face a universe like that.

‘N-no, I’m sorry! No mercy, this is for the good of everyone. You’ll thank me later. Now you are going to open that portal and THEN I’ll restore your barrier and the goddess will appear and heal us and undo-all the bad things I’m doing. Got it?’

“Wheatley, what’s going on?” Craig interrupted Wheatley’s concentration, still standing behind Doug. “Your face, you look…”

“EVERYTHING’S FINE!” Spikes splayed out in all directions from the barrier, one of them planting itself into the ground right next to Craig; they hit nobody but made the space inside the barrier a lot smaller. “She’s found the goddess and is bringing her here with just a LITTLE bit of encouragement and they’re going to save us and everything is going to be. Just. Fi-”

The shield around him quaked as something slammed it from the side. It fractured, though it didn’t quite break.

Doug lifted his scythe, preparing for another swing. “Wheatley. I’m sorry.”

“...So.” The idea that Doug, Doug of all people would betray him at a time like this made Wheatley want to curl up and cry. If he couldn’t depend on Chell or Doug, who could he rely on? Certainly not himself. But he refused to let any of that show, giving Doug his coldest stare and hoping nobody noticed the hot tears in his eyes. “So then, is it going to be like that? Fine. Just FINE! We can have it out! But you’ll feel like a right jerk when you’ve killed me and Chell brings back the goddess safe and sound! You’ll be sorry and it won’t be my problem! Why doesn’t anyone trust me or rely on me? Everyone thinks I’m just a SCREW UP or MORON. Even you! But if you’re so smart, why didn’t you bloody do anything to find this goddess in the first place?! You couldn’t do anything, could you!? You needed us. So go ahead!” Magic spikes started to sprout at his feet. “Let’s have at it!”  

He was beginning to feel numb and cold again, and didn’t care. He almost didn’t notice at first when the second portal began to tear itself open.

* * *

 

The moment Wheatley ripped his barrier away was like being dunked in water so cold it burned. Chell screamed, holding her sides while pressure hit her from all around. Merely being close to whatever it was she was facing was incredibly painful; she feared it would crush her Gem in a second.

The masked face laughed in the voice of a little girl. _I saved this world. I like to think I did a good job. Are you suffering?_

And Chell was alone with it. She was really, truly alone; Wheatley had withdrawn his power and left her to die unless she did what he said. She wanted to cry; she wanted to shout at him until he went deaf. He was the one who’d hugged her not a few hours ago. Was it really just because he thought she could save him?

So her figuring was right. She was Chell the Savior and nothing else.

“Fine,” she whispered to nobody. “I can-I can put up with the worst you have to offer. I’ll just die here. You won’t get in…”

There was no response from the thing-that-was-not-a-goddess, the thing some part of her mind registered as a Witch of Compassion, other than a slow increase in the pain and a sense of being pulled closer even as she struggled back. It was going to pull her into its world. Back there was a traitor; here was oblivion.

Somehow, Rita scolding her in the train station came to mind. Just live.

She was the one controlling the portals, after all.

* * *

 

Lightning crackled from the portal and a second one started to open next to it. Wheatley grinned, the crystal spines dissolving immediately into sugar glass. “Oh, she’s doing it! Look, mates…wait. What’s that? What is that?”

Chell flew out in an orange flash, battered and staggering; she collapsed into a heap on the ground. What came out after her was a wave of choking, suffocating shadow, laughing and speaking a thousand words at once. When it touched the grass, it left the ground scorched. Chell reached up a hand to close the portal around it, but something still got out, flowing outwards and shattering the barrier around Wheatley as if it were dust. It formed above them in some kind of shape, somehow darker than the night sky.

“Chell?!” Wheatley reached for her, attempting to restore the barrier, but it wouldn’t come. As he approached, she glared and flinched at his touch.   
“...Oh, I...wait. I did that. I did that, didn’t I?” He looked around at a mortified Craig, standing behind Doug. Doug was protecting Craig from him, wasn’t he? And he’d attacked Wheatley when he’d hurt Chell. Doug was doing exactly what he should have done, and Wheatley called him a traitor for it.

He stared up at the laughing Not-Witch, its cacaphony of voices slowly fading from his hearing. Was that what he’d screamed at his friends and hurt Chell for? Was that what it came to?

“I didn’t mean to. I thought-I just-I thought I’d...why’d I do that? What have I done?! I’m not like this…! A-am I?”

He’d hurt Chell. Worse, he’d failed her.

_I want to be the sort of person who is important to her._

“But not like this,” he blurted right out loud. “No, I… I didn’t mean it…! I wouldn’t…! I'm not that sort of person, am I? Except I…”

He looked down at his gem, so dark it was almost navy. Everything felt clammy and cold, and the sky rippled above him. The little bit of light left in his gem thrashed like a dying fish.

He couldn’t fight that thing in this shape. He’d turn into a Witch the next time he used a burst of magic. No more than he deserved, perhaps, but to become a Witch here would mean another threat to his friends. He owed them something.

He shut his eyes, unclipping his Soul Gem bubbling with corruption. It was so tempting to simply grab a rock and break it, shatter it into a million pieces so he wouldn’t have to look at that miserable, heartbroken glare ever again.

Instead, driven by an instinct he didn’t completely understand, he took a deep breath and threw it as far as he could. He took off running in the opposite direction as quickly as he could before he stopped breathing and fell into the darkness.

* * *

 

As soon as the barrier shattered and revealed the thing oozing out of the portal, Rita grabbed Kevin by the wrist and started to dash. “Okay, whatever that is you ain’t fighting it, kiddo.”

“Wait! Wait, but Craig is there!” He pulled away and started flying on his own; he wasn’t nearly as fast, but he seemed to know well enough to hide near the trees.

“I know, I know! So’s Chell and the not-really-old guy. And...that.”

That was a formation big enough to be a Witch unto itself, though it couldn’t seem to decide on a form. It was a cloud that obscured the stars above them, emitting echoing laughter. It was looming right over the group which had been involved in the ‘ritual,’ all save for Wheatley who for some reason had taken off and collapsed some distance away.

“...WHATEVER, Potter! If you abandoned us…”

“He did.”

Rita knew that voice, and it drained the color from her face. “...Hey, Queenie.”

“Hello Rita.” Glados’s voice was short and clipped, and her gold eyes showed more focus and urgency than contempt. “What on Earth were you trying to do?”

“Look, it wasn’t Chell’s fault! Or mine. We just-what the hell is that? Did you do that?! It’s that black smoke crap.” Rita narrowed her eyes. “It is you, isn’t it?! This is something you did, ain’t it?”

She didn’t wait for Glados’s reply, instead running. The world blurred around her as she used her magic to speed herself up, grabbing the battered Chell over her shoulder and dragging a confused Craig by the arm until they were both in the woods with Kevin. Kevin immediately hugged Craig, who had a distant look in his eyes.   
Chell she left leaning against a tree, and Kevin knelt next to her. He held his hands out and golden light spread around her, healing her body. So that was the kid’s specialty.

It didn’t do a thing for the drained look on her face, however. “Wheatley,” she said hoarsely. “He…” She pulled her knees up under her chin and shook. “We have to stop that thing. Thought I could get through in time. Only a fragment of it, only a little fragment but…”

“Alex! Penelope!” Glados’s voice echoed through the park, clear as a bell, her long white hair and gown standing out against the jet-black cloud. “Find the others and get them out. Rita, we’ll talk about your treason when there’s time. I suggest you idiots leave too, even though this is your fault. I guess,” she added with a dismissive hand wave, “you should grab the blue moron’s body before it rots. If you want.”

She stood right beside Doug, both of them looking up at the thing.

“...Carol.” There was a break in his voice.

“As much as I’d love to hear you mope uselessly again, Doug, let’s save the reunion for after we take care of this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That escalated quickly.  
>  Big chapter here. A few notes:  
> 1) Description of Kriemhild Gretchen from the Madoka wiki: Witch of salvation. Her nature is mercy. She absorbs any life on the planet into her newly created heaven--her barrier. The only way to defeat this witch is to make the world free of misfortune. If there's no grief in this world, she will believe this world is already a heaven.  
> I might be stretching canon a little bit (with her and Cici in particular,) but considering we don't know much about her I figured it couldn't hurt.  
> 2) Also aware that having Homura appear might be a bit weird, but it felt right. Not like this fic hasn't gone trippy before.  
> 3) How many references to other fanfics or media in the portal-space did YOU spot? (There aren't too many...)  
> Anyway, we're in the home stretch. Sorry this one took a while, but the chapters are getting longer as the fic rolls into its endgame arc. Thanks for sticking with me thus far!


	23. I'm still alive.

_She was tall and confident, with red-orange hair and freckles on her arms. She wore black and gold in what Carol could only describe as a ‘battle dress’ that flared around her as she fired at the horse-like monster looming over both of them, shooting glittering stars from what could only be described as ridiculously large twin pistols. “You just hang tight for a second.” She flashed Carol a grin over her shoulder. “This one’s just a baby. I’ll get it taken care of in no time.”_

_This couldn’t possibly be real. It had to be a fever dream, Carol told herself, the bright colors and swimming patterns merely a sign that she’d finally caught the sickness going around. She was actually in a tent, and the warrior girl was a nurse. That was the only explanation, though it was one that didn’t account for the throbbing pain in her twisted ankle. Influenza didn’t cause that._

_She tried to get back up, but her ankle wouldn’t cooperate. Instead she just watched the girl in black dive through the air, making short use of a creature that looked like a headless rider, horse and cart all melted together. ‘The Headless Horseman,’ she recalled, regretting she’d never gotten around to reading that book yet._

_Maybe the other girl was really an angel, and she’d already succumbed to the fevers. There was something noble and shining about her even as she laughed with joy, firing into the horse monster until it shattered into nothingness._

_Landing from an impossible height, she turned to look down at Carol, still kneeling in the alley. “Close call, huh? You can keep this secret, right? You look like a smart gal. Name’s Cecile. Cici for short, if you want.” Her black dress changed into smudged overalls, hair tucked into a hat. Carol had heard of young girls disguising themselves as boys to get work, and suspected as much of Cecile. “Tell ya what. I’ll get you home, cuz you can’t walk on that. You from ‘round here?”_

_Carol was trying to make sense of what she’d seen. Keep a secret, after she’d witnessed monsters and angels? She stuck instead to her more immediate concerns. “I was...on my way to work. The factory. Can’t work like this…” As a rule, she didn’t cry. She wouldn’t allow the world the satisfaction._

_“Oh, you work at...well. Guess you wouldn’t be in this neighborhood if you were from one o’the rich homes.” Cecile knelt down and picked Carol up without asking first, though the latter was too baffled to make any protest. “So you’re like me, right? Life serving you lemons since the day you were born. You don’t have to put up with that, though. Ain’t that right?”_

_Cecile seemed to be looking right past Carol. When she followed the redhead’s gaze, she spotted a white cat with long ears and eyes like red rubies._

* * *

 

Chell heard voices as if from the other side of a tunnel, echoing and incoherent. Rita was shouting something. She couldn’t feel the burning and freezing sensation anymore; even the snow beneath her only felt wet rather than cold. There was a shadow leaning over her, surrounded with an aura of yellowish light; as focused returned to her eyes, she recognized Kevin staring down at her with big, worried brown eyes, that light radiating from his hands.

Another pair of hands helped her sit up. She felt for a few seconds as if she might vomit, all noise still filtered through a wall of cotton. She raised a hand to her mouth; no blood. It must have been Kevin’s magic which healed her from anything that thing…

_That thing…_

She wrapped her arms around her body and shuddered, shutting her eyes again. Doing so just brought back the image of the awful glowing mask-face singing enticingly to her, beckoning with promises of compassion even as she felt it begin to tear her apart. Opening her eyes again to make the memory go away, she grabbed her gem and stared at it.

There were shadows swimming about, but the orange light was still there.

“If you’d used magic to heal yourself it probably would have burnt you out at that point,” she heard Craig say over her shoulder. His voice kept breaking, despite its usual level tone. “Thankfully Kevin, Kevin can…”

“I healed you,” the younger brother cut in. “I just felt like I could do it if I needed to. Are you okay? Not seeing stars, are you? You were hurt pretty bad but Rita said you wouldn’t die as long as your jewel was okay. Gem, whatever it is. Are you shaking?”  
She was, she realized, and unable to stop herself. Instead she clipped her Gem back to the front of her uniform and held her head. “That Witch. Where is it?”

“Glados is facing it. And Doug,” Craig explained. She realized then that he was kneeling next to her. “Do you need water?”

“I’m...fine.” She absolutely wasn’t, but she didn’t need Craig risking his life at a time like this for her. They were under a lamp post marking the walkway through the park, and Chell could just make out flashes of light through a mass of darkness on the horizon. “She can’t beat it. It’s too big…”

“It’s just a bit of somethin’.” That was Rita, holding a heap of something in her arms as she approached. “So you’re still with us? Great. I mean not that I was worried, but it’d just be a shame for us to lose you that way.” She’d said the last part too quickly to sound sincere. Chell knew Rita well enough to recognize when the Adventure Girl was using flippancy as a coping mechanism.

It took Chell a moment to recognize what Rita was carrying until it shifted and a pale hand in a blue jacket fell over.

She instinctively shrank back against the post even before she remembered his voice shouting at her through her own mind, but she heard nothing. When Rita set Wheatley against the trunk of a tree, he fell lopsided like a big ragdoll. His eyes were open but unfocused.

“Ugh! He’s freezing cold. It’s always creepy when that happens.” Rita shuddered. “Asshole better appreciate me going to find his body after the crap he pulled…”

His body. “Wait. Did he-...?”

“Turn? Nah. Threw his Gem and ran for it ‘til it couldn’t control his body anymore. One of the tests the Queen does to demonstrate how the Soul Gem works so newbies don’t lose it. Not to say it didn’t hatch somewhere else.” Rita’s face fell. “He was pretty...gone, ya know?”

“I should have known.” She stared at his face, so peaceful in ‘death.’ Was he the same boy who had hugged her not too long ago, opening his heart to her? The same one who’d tried to sacrifice her just a few hours later? It was hard to recognize either in the empty shell. “He’s...good at preserving himself.” She couldn’t help a bitter laugh there.

“I was really tempted to leave him after Craig told me what’d happened, but I just couldn’t do it.” Rita’s shoulders slumped. “I’m going soft. It’s your fault.”

“I should have paid attention…”

“Na-uh,” Rita snapped, “I don’t mean what Potter did! Bad enough I managed to make Caroline into your fault instead of...complicated. It’s complicated! And he’s got a brain in his head. He made his own damn decisions. You don’t get to look at the guy who threw ya to the wolves to save his pasty ass and rationalize it into a guilt trip for yourself.”

“I’m not rationalizing it!” Chell hadn’t meant to shout at Rita, and only realized a second afterward that she’d slammed her fist into the snow. She gave a startled Kevin and Rita an apologetic look. “I’m....don’t tell me how to react to this. I’ve never been…”

“Betrayed.” Craig said the word for her, staring at Wheatley. “Fact: I don’t think he meant to do it. It probably made sense in his head.”

“...No, wait. I’ve been betrayed. Dad. Dad kept coming back so he could break Mom’s heart again.” Chell barely even realized she was speaking aloud, and it was taking longer than usual to process what Craig had said. She tried to go over the implications of the comparison. She could easily reject her father at this point; it was her mother’s choice not to take him back. There would be no such shrugging of responsibility when it came to how she felt about Wheatley. She wanted to strangle him, slap him, or shake him and cry. She wanted to ask him a thousand questions.

But that thing leaning against the tree wasn’t Wheatley. It was just his abandoned body. The panic and frustration instead seemed to overwhelm her own body, leaving her heart pounding and her face feeling hot. She forced herself to stand as a distraction.

“Sorry, Craig. You tried to warn me…”

“No, I didn’t think this would happen. At least I didn’t expect it to turn out like that. And had you backed out,” Craig said, “Wheatley might have lashed out at you worse. He got it in his head that this had to happen and it had to work. He was using a distant hope and taking it as, um, fact. And when it didn’t prove to be so, he took it out on...everyone.”

“Everyone?” She snapped her head to look at Craig. Kevin and Rita appeared unhurt, but they’d been outside of the barrier.

“Oh, no,” Craig added quickly, “he didn’t hurt me. He threatened, but Doug was there. He was about to fight Doug when you came back; I think he would have lost that fight. I’m not sure how strong Doug is, but he’s out there with Glados…”

Before Chell could ask where, Craig turned to where the others were staring, at the hill in the distance. It was difficult to see at night, but the lampposts there flickered in the face of what looked to be a swirling knot of darkness with flashes of bright colors peeking through. Even watching it felt wrong, invoking a sense of motion sickness and the ghost of the burning ice feeling along her skin.

“Chell,” Kevin said as he tugged at her arm, “Is that what you saw in the portal-place?”

Chell watched it a second more and then shook her head. “That was...big. Impossibly big. I tried to cut it off before it could reach here.” That was only part of it, and she knew it. In truth she’d been hoping to contain it there, thinking she could die in its clutches rather than let it follow her to her home. She’d come so close, until a sensation like drowning overtook her and she found herself unable to die.

_See? You’re a coward and a fake hero. Why should they look to you when you’re still afraid to die?_

Had something spoken? She couldn’t hear anything, and seconds later couldn’t even remember what the whispering voice had been saying. It faded into the distant echoes of laughter coming from the not-Witch.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. “It’s fine. We can beat it, whatever it is! I mean, if the Queen can’t. Sure she’s a lot stronger than we are, I think, but…ngh. This sounded more encouraging in my head.” Even Rita’s bravado sounded forced.

Chell sat back down on the snow, the vertigo-inducing sight finally overwhelming her again. She doubted it’d do much to rally her demoralized troops if she threw up in front of them.

_But you don’t really want to rally them, do you? Aren’t you tired of this? They’re chains keeping you bound to this life. If you give up you could be free._

Again, a whisper had come and gone like a cold gust of wind; again it was forgotten just as quickly.

Wheatley’s half-open eyes were unnerving her, and reminding her too much of the condemnation and anger in his voice. She moved to shut them and shuddered at how cold his skin felt, pulling her hand away quickly.

“What...what the hell is wrong with him.”

Chell snapped around at the unfamiliar voice, her eyes adjusting in the dim light as she looked up at an older man with red-brown hair. He had dried blood on his face and dark circles under his eyes, and was out of breath as if he’d been running. He was staring directly at Wheatley, or rather at Wheatley’s body.

She froze in panic and her mind raced through scenarios that would explain to a ‘normal’ adult why she and several other teenagers would be in the park long past midnight with what appeared to be a dead body. Maybe the man would just think he was sleeping, though that scenario didn’t look much better. Before she could force some kind of justification or order the others to run, the man held up a hand.

“It’s alright. There’s a lot of screwed up crap I don’t understand. I get that. I won’t call the cops if you’ll answer some damn questions. I’ve been looking everywhere. I just...I just need to know this. What the hell is wrong with my nephew?”

* * *

“Where’s the Labyrinth?! There should be a Labyrinth!” Doug sliced through a snake of blackness ribboned with bright colors. It just seemed to regrow, the same as all the other knots and threads of energy surrounding the two Magi. “It’s not big enough to survive without it! It’s just a…”

“Fragment.” Glados had her back to him, facing the sea of black threads. “We’re looking at one-one millionth of whatever that thing was, I suspect. So tell me, did you predict this when you decided to involve children in your plan?”

“You’re one to talk about that. How many Magi have you sacrificed for your ‘Science?’” There was venom in Doug’s voice as he spoke, that strange blocky Witch he had somehow partnered with blocking an attack for both of them.

“I’ve been deciphering the nature of the Incubator system for years so I can unravel it. You’ve been wallowing in your own inability to act.” Glados raised her staff, sending a wall of black smoke to push back against the grasping hands. It was incredibly frustrating spending an entire battle on the defensive. Of course this thing would win in the end; it would exhaust them. “So I guess I should congratulate you for finally doing something. How were you to know your little apprentice was corrupt? There’s a reason I keep track of them, Doug.”

“To force them to change after they’re not useful to you anymore?”

“Tell me this. If you’d let him become a Witch naturally, would we be facing something even we can’t fix right now? You had a Witch siphoning off your Corruption. You don’t know what it’s like to feel it eat at you every day, clawing at your mind like an Itch. Or...maybe you do. It has been a while.”

The fingers and ribbons reached out at them, corrupting and draining the life out of the very ground beneath them. The heat from their magic had melted the snow on the hill, revealing grass which had turned an ugly red and crumbled to dust at a touch.

“So.” Doug still remained with his back to her; in a way she was glad they weren’t making eye contact. The battle was awkward enough. “Those times you sent rookies to kill me.”

“I was testing their skill and loyalty. I had to do something with wannabe recruits who I knew wouldn’t last long. But I was trying to kill you,” she added with a bit of cheer she couldn’t help. “No offense of course, but you were starting to undermine my system.”

Doug shouted over an increasingly loud chorus of whispers and laughter. “But you didn’t do it yourself. It’s because you can’t anymore, isn’t it?”

She involuntarily squeezed the staff hard until it hurt her fingers, swinging it in a broad arc to little avail. “This is frustrating. They have us surrounded! It does, rather.”

“I’m not mocking you,” Doug insisted. “You can’t fight on your own much anymore, can you? I know I can’t. It takes enough just to keep us going…”

“...We weren’t meant to last this long. I know! We should have gone long ago. Finally given in to Kyubey. But you know what?” She closed her eyes for just a second, taking a deep breath and mustering the power from within her. The black clouds of magic she manipulated turned into mist, the way it used to be, swirling around the both of them to erect a cylindrical wall. It was like being in the center of a tornado.

“I don’t care how much it hurts. I’m still alive.” She couldn’t hide a triumphant note of contempt in her voice, though her grin quickly faded. “But...not for long at this rate. There’s not just no Labyrinth, there’s no Witch. This is just…”

She felt the shape behind her slump, spinning around to take a look. She could feel it draining her just to maintain that barrier against such a powerful not-Witch; even moving made her feel weak.

Doug was holding a Grief Seed marked with a square pattern, bleeding from his midsection. His other hand was over his chest, shaking.

“Dammit. Wasn’t fast enough. Well? Use that thing to restore yourself. She’ll be back soon enough, you know that….”

Doug said nothing, instead opening the hand covering his Gem. He was holding it in his hand, the perfect square gem glittering grey with a deep, ugly crack right through it.

“...Oh. I see.” She knelt next to him so he could hear her over the roar of the winds around him. “When did that happen?”

“Earlier in the fight. I felt it.” Doug made what could have been a sob or a laugh, shuddering. “It struck down Cici too.”

“Cici?” Glados’s eyes widened as she took a step back, feeling her heart pound in her chest for a moment. “You named that thing Cici?”

“So that was someone we knew? I don’t remember. No, that’s right. You spoke about a Cici once or twice...that must have been where I got the name. There’s so much I don’t remember, and I can’t always tell what’s memories and what I just dreamed.” His breath sounded ragged. “I could do it, you know. My Witch could…”

Before he could finish, she set two fingers on the fractured Gem, rapidly filling with darkness. “No you couldn’t. You escaped despair by hiding away, didn’t you? You’d be a pitiful Witch, Doug Rattmann.”

He stared up at her, and then smiled in a way that made her feel uneasy. There was no malice or resentment in it, nothing but relief as he held the gem up for her. “You’re right. You would have sacrificed me already if you thought it’d work. I can’t justify the power it would take to repair this, so please…” He laugh-sobbed again. “For a second there you looked like...nevermind.” His nose trickled blood, and his eyes seemed to be looking past her. “But you saw it, didn’t you Cici?”   
Glados realized her hand was shaking involuntarily, and forced it still. “It’s been…”

She found herself unable to finish the sentence as she channeled magic to shatter the gem.

* * *

_Carol stared at the pearlescent gem in her hand. “It’s warm. What’s powering it?” She was so busy looking it over in an attempt to decipher some kind of mechanism that she almost didn’t hear Cecile laugh._   
_“It’s magic! If a little creature that grants wishes tells ya it’s magic, it is. That’s all there is to it.” She ruffled Carol’s brown hair. “Anyway, glad you decided to join us.”_

_“I want to know how it works,” Carol insisted even as she allowed the gem to revert to a metal band on her finger. “I don’t mind spending time studying it. But, uh…” She looked down at her feet, where Kyubey was curled up like a cat. “This is a lot to take in. It’s real? I mean it’s obviously real in some way. It fixed my ankle and I didn’t even wish for that...”_

_“A little unwise to ask that after you Contract, Miss Glados.” Cecile shrugged and then laughed. “What’d you wish for?”_

_“I told you, it's Glades. Caroline Glades. You can just call me Carol. And isn’t asking that a little forward? I mean, what if it was personal?” Carol realized she was coming across a bit too forceful to someone who had just saved her life, possibly twice, and relented with a sigh. “It’s fine. If we’re going to be working on a team, we shouldn’t keep secrets.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked around, recalling the tents down the way and the crowded hospitals with a bit of a shudder and hoping the white creature had told the truth._

_“Two other girls from the factory already caught influenza and died. I refused to do that, so at first I thought I would just wish not to get sick. But then it occurred to me that I could make greater use of such a wish with smarter wording. So I wished to stop the outbreak here altogether. I have no idea if it’s worked…”_

_“It has.” Kyubey entered the conversation for the first time with a smug note to his voice. “I can’t speak for anyone who’s already infected because even I can’t control how wishes manifest, but there won’t be any future infections. They’ll blame it on medical advances or miracles.”_

_Cecile whistled. “That is pretty shrewd! I made a good choice bringin’ you to Kyubey. Though it is kinda funny…both of us made wishes for other people.”_

_“Wait...we did? You did?” Somehow it hadn’t even occurred to Carol to wonder what Cecile had wished for. She was too busy puzzling over the nature of her own ‘miracle.’_

_“Yeah. I came from a house of lazy good-for-nothings. Had to find work cuz Dad wouldn’t.” Cecile punctuated her statement by spitting on the ground. “So I wished my kin would develop some damn ambition. Dad’s lookin’ for work and my brothers are at least helping out more, so that’s something. Still, in retrospect I should’ve just made a wish for myself.”_

_Carol could see through the careless shrug of her new partner; her devil-may-care attitude aside, Cecile was clearly not entirely happy with the results of her wish. If they were fighting monsters like that horse beast every day, she imagined they were in a line of work where regrets did little good._

_So even though she wasn’t the sort to do it often, she managed a smile. “If we just wished for ourselves, we wouldn't be heroes. Would we?” She wasn’t sure if it was a lie or not, but saying it and sounding sincere proved easier than she thought._

* * *

 

“Mr. Johnson. There’s no real easy way to explain this.” Craig sounded like he was at least trying to keep calm as he looked up at the tall man. “Wheatley...is going to be fine.”

“Don’t lie to me, kid! What’s happening to him? Why are you all dressed like that? Why…” He stopped and turned to Chell, anger briefly subsiding in his eyes. “You alright, kid? You look terrible.”

Did she? She pushed hair away from her face and tried to recover her voice. “I’m...fine.” That was a lie, though how obvious it was to Cave she had no idea.

She could see the resemblance now that she looked at him. Wheatley had his nose and eyes. The body language, however, was completely different. Even at his proudest moments, Wheatley tended to slouch or slump as if not entirely at home in his own body. By contrast, Cave carried himself with direct, forthright actions and an authoritative gaze even with his torn suit and the blood on his face.

Blood.

“Wheatley said you two fought.”

“If by fight you mean he created some blue glass and energy out of god damn nowhere and wrecked the place with it,” Cave said, “then yeah. Had kind of a meltdown. Whatever he did, the science behind it must be incredible and I’m going to figure it out as soon as I make sure my damn nephew’s not crazy or dead.” There was a hollow undertone to his demanding voice, and between that and bags under his eyes Chell wondered how she was ever going to explain how likely it was that Wheatley was, in fact, at least very unstable and quite possibly dead.

Rita never gave her the chance, stepping forward. “Your asshole nephew almost got us all killed! Don’t you dare pin this on us!”  
“I’m not pinning this on anyone! I just…” Cave trailed off, staring past them. “I saw what I saw. Speaking of. While I’m asking what the hell things are and not getting an answer, I may as well add-what the hell is that?”

Chell followed his gaze up to the battle on the hill, which seemed to have taken a different turn. What had been a shapeless, formless cloud of blue-black darkness had since transformed into a column of shadows reaching up heavenwards until it parted the few clouds in the night sky. Ribbons of white mist and shadowy tendrils surrounded it in a lattice pattern, like a net or an ornate wall. The flashes of color from within were no longer visible.  
“What did she do? Did she and Mr. Rattmann stop it?” Kevin leaned over, ignoring the way Cave boggled when he hovered a few feet in the air to get a better look. “But it’s still there…”

As Craig tugged on Kevin’s cape to bring him back down to the ground, a little red shape fluttered to the ground, growing and warping until it turned back into Penelope. She ignored a glare and a stream of curses from Rita, instead walking right up to Chell.

“The Queen wants to see you. Not the rest. Just you.” She sounded nonchalant and casual, though Chell thought she detected a red puffiness around Penelope’s eyes. The redhead pointed at Wheatley’s body. “Bring that along.”  
There was a second of silence before everyone around Chell erupted in explosive protests.

“That, young lady,” Cave snapped from behind Chell, “is my god damn kid! Or-god forbid his-will someone just explain what the hell’s happened here?!”

“Don’t trust Rat Face there,” Rita said right into Chell’s left ear. “I ain’t happy with Potter now but I’ll be damned if I’ll deal with her. Hey, Penelope! Don’t I owe you a fist to the face? Don’t think I’ll let ya chicken out just cuz of the apparent end of the world!”

“I know she has a grudge against you,” Craig whispered to her right, “but I have no idea what the Queen would want with Wheatley’s body. Fact: I really don’t feel good about this…” From the corner of her eye she saw Kevin cling to Craig while looking sorrowfully at Penelope.

The voices all blended together into a cacophonous mess of confusion, anger and mistrust, all while Chell could look past Penelope at the tower of Not-Witch. Through all of it she could hear another noise, a whisper from somewhere inside of her mocking her in a contempt-filled echo of her own voice.

_Leadership is a trap. You never wanted it. Why not break free? They’re all going to depend upon you and drag you down like chains. It’s just like Wheatley. They’ll form bonds with you and those bonds will pull you down and drown you. Break free and let go. It’s what you want, right? Break free and-_

Chell slammed her fist into the lamp post hard enough to leave her knuckles bleeding, silencing the whisper with the pain. The sound of magically-enhanced fist on metal rang out through the area and all those surrounding her fell quiet; even Cave simply stared at her. Penelope took a full step back, biting her lip as if she’d made some kind of error.

Somehow without having to shout or say a word, Chell had made her voice heard. All eyes were on her.

“I’ll go.” She held up her bloodied hand to stop any objections, and none were raised. This was her glamour, she suspected; that magic which made others perceive her as a leader or a beacon of importance, for better or worse. Fine. Let it work in her favor for once.

“We don’t have any other ideas,” she continued. “Mr. Johnson…” She looked up at the man, sensing fear and confusion through his anger and entitlement. “He’ll be...fine. The others will explain.”

They all remained just as quiet as she walked over to the tree and picked up Wheatley’s body, already deathly cold, carrying it in her arms. He was too big to sling over her shoulder, even if some part of her thought it’d serve him right.

“If I’m not back by dawn, she’s probably killed me. Rita, you’ll be in charge.”

“Wait!” Rita’s panicked shout broke the silence. “Wait just a goshdarn second! Don’t put me in charge! I just like to fight! That’s all I’m good at. Why the heck do people keep trusting me with things?! Chell, get back here…!”

But Chell was already walking through the snow in the direction Penelope had indicated. To her mild surprise, Glados’s elite lieutenant didn’t seem to be following. Maybe she wanted to make sure Chell did meet up with Glados alone.

_Fine_ , Chell thought. _She probably blames me for all this and wants to take me down. Let her try. After the night I’ve had, Glados can’t surprise me anymore._

The flickering orange in her gem reminded her that she likely didn’t have enough juice left for a fight.

* * *

 

Chell expected to find Glados standing with her nose in the air, arrogant and proud as always and managing to look down on those taller than her. Instead she found the white-haired magical girl slumped and leaning on her own staff, her hair falling in her face and her white dress scorched black at the edges.

Even her voice sounded hoarse and tired, though the smug edge was unmistakable. “I figured you’d come if I just told you to do so. What if I had called you here to kill you? What were you going to do then?”

Chell just gestured over her shoulder at the pillar of shadows on the hill. “Then that would be your problem.”

That elicited a low chuckle from Glados. “Yes, exactly. It technically already is. Who do you think is keeping it from spreading out and devouring everything here?”

Suddenly Glados’s haggard look made sense, and at the same time became more obvious to Chell. She had bags under her golden eyes and her hands were starting to wrinkle, the skin showing veins beneath. She had an idea that was Glados’s magic, but…

“You, alone? But where’s…”

“The other ridiculously old magician? Oracle, Witch-tamer, kooky immortal kid disguising himself as a kooky old guy for reasons I’ll never understand. Pick your favorite.” One of Glados’s hands opened to reveal a sliver of gray crystal. “Before you start accusing me of killing him, which I know you will, remember the big cloud of hate we were both in and who brought it here.”

Guilt began welling up in Chell’s gut as she looked at what remained of Doug Rattmann. True she’d only known him for about a night, but he’d seemed sincere and kind. He couldn’t have wanted this. “I…”

“No, not you. Just because I didn’t hear the conversation doesn’t mean I didn’t get what was going on. He used you as a fishing lure. They both did really, even if I’m sure they thought they were helping you ‘fulfill your destiny’ or something ridiculous like that.” Glados reached over and shoved the crystal shard into Wheatley’s pocket. “There. If anyone killed Doug it was him; considering how long I’ve tried to do just that, I guess I should be thankful to the moron.”

“Why did you have me bring him?” Chell didn’t like agreeing with Glados, particularly when she was being unforgiving, and wanted to change the subject as quickly as possible.

“What, that thing? You didn’t bring him, remember? That’s a very convincing meat puppet he uses to bless us all with his ceaseless chatter.” Glados reached for something next to her and held up a Soul Gem. It was almost completely dark, save for a phantom bit of blue swimming around at the top. “This is him.”

Chell couldn’t help but stare again. It was intact, but the corruption bubbled inside as if boiling. “How...how did he not…”

“Transform? Actually, it was pretty clever of the overgrown idiot, or lucky. Everything we do takes a little bit of magic. Even sustaining our bodies and keeping them as alive as they ever are takes a toll on the Gem. With the body inactive, the gem can preserve what little light it has left.” Glados held it up for Chell to see. There was barely enough light to fill the magical girl’s pale hand. “Generally you have to touch the gem with the body to wake it up. Of course, doing that will use up the little light he has left in him and he’ll turn immediately.”

Wheatley’s body suddenly felt very heavy in her arms. Chell set him down on the snow again and looked at the gem, the pieces coming together. Wheatley was corrupted, far more gone than she’d thought. In his corruption he’d lashed out against everyone he cared about: his uncle, his friends, his new mentor and eventually her. Everything he’d done was to prevent his own death and transformation; it had just come at the expense of her, and now possibly the entire city. And there was nothing she could do for him; when he woke up, he’d die.

“Well?” Glados snapped impatiently. “Hurry up. Don’t stand there and gawk. We don’t have a lot of time.”

“What? Hurry up and what?”

Glados rolled her eyes. “You want to do it, don’t you? He almost killed you. I can tell from the way you’re staring at him that it wasn’t a cute misunderstanding. Besides, I heard the shouting through his barrier. If he was threatening Doug and Craig, it’s pretty safe to assume he turned on you too.”

“What?! No! I…” Chell wanted to kick Wheatley in the stomach at a time when he’d feel it, sure. She wanted to scream her lungs out at him. But she would never…

No, she had to admit, the idea had an appeal to her. She wasn’t sure she could lay her eyes on him again, not at that moment. It would be easy to justify. He was a threat to her friends in his current state, not to mention obviously pained and miserable. Maybe it would be a mercy even to him.

“No,” she forced herself to say again. If she could speak it out loud she could make herself stick by it.

That just elicited a sigh from Glados, though one interrupted by a wet cough. Was it Chell’s imagination, or was Glados developing crows’ feet around her eyes? “Of course not. Can’t spoil your spotless reputation, can you? Fine, then I’ll explain the real reason why I even bothered.” She pointed her staff at the pillar. “Want to know why I’m just holding that thing off instead of fighting it and ordering my Courtiers to do the same? Because I can’t kill it. You can’t kill it. No one can.”

The gem glimmered in front of Chell, waiting to be taken. She had to tear herself away from its glow and remind herself that she didn’t want that, could never want to do that. “Isn’t it a Witch…?”

“You know what it is. That’s not the Witch. That’s the tiny sliver which got through after you, equivalent to a teardrop.” Glados’s gaze bore into Chell, any traces of a smirk gone. “You saw the Witch, didn’t you?”

A vision of a mask with eyes of fire flooded Chell’s mind, the face itself as large as anything she’d ever imagined. Fingers like towers had loomed over her body, the voice gentle and childlike but big enough to fill an entire world.

She could feel her own Gem darken again and forced the memory to the back of her mind, wishing she had another lamp post to punch and banish it. “...Yes. I saw it.”

“So this whole time the Goddess Doug envisioned was a Witch. Well, maybe. Who knows? She’s not here, that’s for sure. I figured it would be me if I lasted long enough, but...well. Nevermind. Science marches on. Let’s worry about the present.” Glados seemed to have to steady herself on her staff. Holding back the Not-Witch seemed to take a lot out of her. “The reason it can’t be killed is because it has no body. Its central form isn’t here. Lucky for us in that if it had come through it would have been a catastrophe, but what did make it through will poison this entire city at least with no way to destroy it completely. We can only contain it. Several Magi at a time could do that, but they’d burn themselves out, and all the while our city would become the equivalent of a nuclear waste dump. Uninhabitable. Unless, of course…”

Glados prodded Wheatley’s body with the end of her staff. “A powerful Witch manifested near it. That Witch would probably merge with the formless darkness and become...well, it wouldn’t be pretty. But if my estimation is correct it would have a body. It would be immensely strong, but killable.”

Everything was starting to click into place in Chell’s mind. Why would Glados care about Wheatley going Witch? She could get no use out of him other than another Grief Seed. Glados, the White Queen who let others die to keep herself alive, was actually thinking about the greater good. And the greater good needed someone to die.

“There,” Glados continued. “Now you’ve got an altruistic reason to do it. It’s a win-win for everyone. You have a chance to defeat that thing and save the city-a slim chance, but better than certain death. And you never have to see him again. You don’t have to think about how he treated you when you needed help. He’ll be out of his misery; he won’t even know it’s you who did it.”

“I…” Chell looked between the pillar and Wheatley. It was the pragmatic thing to do, and she knew it. She hated thinking in those terms. As angry as she was with Wheatley, she didn’t really want him to die.  
She thought Glados couldn’t surprise her with cruel tricks anymore, but here she was. Glados had put someone else’s life in her hands again.

“Admit it. You really want to do it. Deep down you know he’d do it if he were in your position. He wouldn’t even think about it. I’ve known people like him. They’re your friend when everything’s fine but the moment it goes bad, they run for the hills to save their own skin. What makes you think he’ll change? Ever?”

"He...but it would kill him." Chell, confronted with truths she herself could not deny, found herself reduced to stating the obvious.

"Exactly. But how different is that from our normal lives? We need Witches to stay alive, so some of us have to become Witches. Kyubey needs to harvest us for the good of the universe, or so he claims. In order to bring about hope and miracles, we end up causing disasters and despair. I've lived this long and performed enough tests and I still haven't found a way around it." Glados was leaning on her staff again, apparently determine  to hide any signs of weakness.

"So I make sure the right people survive. The strong ones, the smart ones who will be the most help against a disaster witch. Your friend there may be persistent, but he's unstable. Really, this is charitable for both of you."

"The right people." Something about that phrase made Chell feel ill. Had Alice been unworthy to survive? Had the twins? Caroline? What even made someone worthy of life? And how could she possibly choose to sacrifice someone? If she'd had the guts in the first place to throw Glados into that void once and for all...

And suddenly she knew what she would do. She knew why she could never sacrifice Wheatley, even as she remembered him ripping his barrier away that very night and subjecting her to the worst pain she'd ever experienced. She understood why she had never just killed Glados, even though as Wheatley correctly pointed out, she probably could. It wasn't about them at all, or about what anyone deserved. It wasn’t about them at all.

"I'm not you."

Glados stopped moving and stared. “What? What are you going on about now?”

“You’re right. It’s what he would have done. And it’s what you’d do. But not me.” Chell was sure saying something that brash to Glados could be a death sentence, but she was beyond caring. A Witch-Goddess hadn’t killed her; what could the Queen do?

For a second, Glados’s gold eyes widened in what looked like hurt before they narrowed again. “Is that the only reason you’re turning down revenge? To be contrary? Are you that stupid? Do you really hate me that much?”

“No, it’s...it’s just not what I’m going to do. I don’t forgive him. But that doesn’t give me the right to kill him. I don’t even know why you left it to me.” Chell stared right back at Glados. “Do you really hate me that much?”

“...Yes.” Was there hesitance in Glados’s voice? “But I didn’t leave you the choice out of some sick desire to force you to kill. I had...two reasons. One, Doug reminded me of someone who would have been disappointed with me if I’d just killed Wheatley outright, even if it was for a good cause. And two…”

She started chuckling, though to Chell the laugh sounded hoarse and old. Glados was covering her smile with her hand; Chell thought she spotted lines around the mouth. “It was a test. I admit it. It was all one last test. I know it might seem like the worst timing in the world, but actually it couldn’t be more relevant now. But before I tell you what I was testing for, tell me-if we don’t sacrifice the moron, what is your plan? You wouldn’t let everyone here die to save him. Even he would never forgive you for that.”

“I won’t.” Trying to ignore her unease at Glados’s increasingly strange behavior and weakened body language, she pointed at the black object next to the Queen. It was a Grief Seed; likely the one Doug had been holding earlier. “You always have spares. Use one of those. They’re already beyond saving.”

This time Glados’s response was slowed and fatigued, even if the smug edge was still there. Chell found herself wondering just how much it was draining the Queen to hold back that barrier. “Easy solution. Of course you’d pick that. It won’t work, of course. Those are ordinary witches. Wheatley...he’s a bit like me, you know, as loathsome as it is for me to admit that. I’ve been there, where you come so close to the brink of despair you never quite come all the way back. I think now you have too. You feel it, right? The other self scratching at the back of your mind, waiting to get out. It’s like an itch. You know on some level you’re never going to be the person you used to be, no matter how much you purify your Gem. Some part of you will always start pulling towards whatever it is your other self wants. I have to hand it to the Incubators; they’ve created a perfect system to wear down even the most stubborn of us eventually. People like us, and him, we make exquisite Witches…”

Glados had to push herself to remain standing by leaning on her staff. Chell found herself instinctively reaching to help her, only to have Glados wave her hand away. “So in a way, you’ve just chosen a much more fitting payback for him. He has to live with it. He’s incredibly stubborn and selfish, which is why I suspect he’s survived so long. I clung to existence far longer than anyone should have on the strength of my bitterness and my love for science; the search for a solution kept me going. I suppose he was motivated by self-preservation, or something else. You should ask him sometime. So I wonder...what you’ll use to keep yourself alive.”

Wait. Chell had been expecting Glados to ask Chell to sacrifice herself instead, maybe as another test. It was something she was prepared to do; at least it would make the aches dull and the constant whispers stop. The fact that the idea appealed to her so much made her feel like a coward and a wretch. Was she really so selfishly opposed to pragmatism that she’d become a martyr for it? Why couldn’t she just endure it and make the vision of the mask go away?

But Glados spoke to Chell as if Chell had a future.

“...Wait. Glados-”

“Shut up.” Glados held the Grief Seed to Wheatley’s gem, purifying it and shoving it against Wheatley’s limp hand. “There. Moron’s back. Remember, I did give you a chance to grant him mercy. Instead you both get to deal with this.” She reached for her left ear, unclipping something from it and holding it clasped tightly in a hand covered with veins and spots.

“Wait!” There was no way the queen was planning what Chell guessed. It wasn’t entirely unlike her. Wasn’t she obsessed with living on? Wasn’t that why she leeched off of everyone else?

“You know why I kept testing you? You probably think it’s because I hate you. And I do, but you’ve got it backwards. I hate you because I keep testing you, and you keep passing. I blame you for the other Caroline’s death and you bear the guilt as obnoxiously as possible, but it doesn’t break you. I send Alex and Penelope to unsettle your subordinates and you keep them under control. I try to murder your strategist from right under your nose by negating his Wish. I give you every reason to give up on Rita, someone who hated you for a while, and you turn her on me.”

The little queen held the object up above her head as she continued. “From the moment I came across you, you unsettled me. It’s not just your weird glamour. Your wish isn’t responsible for why I couldn’t stand you. You reminded me of...someone I used to know. I knew from the start you might be strong enough to be the person I was waiting for, and every test you passed proved it. You’re strong-willed and dense enough to think you can beat this in the end, don’t you? You’re too tenacious to let some alien hivemind or someone like me get in your way. You could survive anything I could deal out even if I wasn't myself anymore; you could protect this city from me. Breaking you is hard.”

Chell could hear Wheatley breathing again, though if he was conscious he wisely wasn’t saying anything. She herself was too busy watching Glados, who unclenched her hand and revealed what was inside. It was an earring, the jewel dangling from it circular and marked by an iris pattern. It was almost completely black; the tiny bit of white in the center really made it look white. Glados’s true Soul Gem, there the whole time hiding in plain sight.

“I wasn’t expected to last long, so I made sure to last as long as possible just to spite Kyubey. I did a lot of research on myself and generations of Magi thinking I could find a way out of the system, as if that would make everything worth it. I knew from the start I’d be a rotten Witch, so I decided instead to live long enough to become a goddess who could subvert Kyubey. But...that can’t happen, can it? The thing currently ‘blessing’ our park is the only goddess we’ll ever see. And now that there’s someone strong enough to defeat me, someone who is very much not me, I’ve run out of reasons to keep going. You’ve broken my will. Congratulations.”

“Stop!” Chell wasn’t sure Glados could even hear her anymore over the winds stirring around the white-clad magical girl who looked more and more like an old woman. “Glados! You don’t have to do this! We can both…!” She reached for the trail of Glados’s dress only to have the silk dissolve into ash in her hands.

“So I guess what I’m saying is, you’ve won a game you didn’t even know you were playing. Now it’s...your problem…”

A swell of white light filled Chell’s vision, blinding her as a force knocked her and Wheatley back onto a rapidly warping landscape. Black and white swirled in a vortex that seemed like it would envelop everything, and then the black won out and everything went silent.

* * *

 

  
_“Cici?”_

_Cecile snorted. “So I finally got you to use that nickname, huh?” The taller girl walked over, whistling. “What’s up?”_

_“I was just wondering a few things.” Carol was sitting on a roof, enjoying the view of the summer night sky. It felt  good to be able to jump so high and stay out all night without tiring. She let her bare feet hang over the edge in the breeze. “Do you ever regret your wish?”_   
_“Regret? Eh, I dunno. The Johnson boys are doing something again at least, though some of ‘em act a little weird. Talk about bein’ important some day. Don’t know why it matters.” Cecile had her hands buried in her grease-stained overalls. “Why? You got nothing to regret. You stopped an epidemic.”_

_“I know.” Knowing she’d made a genuinely altruistic wish made Carol’s wistfulness seem more selfish, but she couldn’t help how she felt. “I was just thinking. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I’d wished to live forever.”_   
_“Maybe you live forever anyway. Have you noticed how easily we heal back up? How nothing seems to stick? I mean if you fight enough monsters sooner or later your number’s gonna come up…so why not try living forever anyway? I bet the future’s gonna be amazing. Maybe we’ll live on the moon.”_

_“Well then.” Carol made herself smile. “I’ll just refuse to die until I see the future. And if I’m ever on the moon, I’ll look you up.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a heads up, I'll be doing NaNoWriMo through November, which means Grief Science is unlikely to get an update during that month. (That's not to say I won't have the next one up anyway in a fit of too much writing.) I'll try to get it updated early December ASAP, though.


	24. "There is no later."

“Chell? Chell, wake up. You’re not asleep on the job, are you? Come on. You can get back up. Just work through the pain.”

Chell didn’t want to open her eyes or even move. She had to force herself to sit up first. There was very little pain other than a soreness in her arms and legs, but it was as if she had no energy left. When she opened her eyes, it took a second for the blur of black and white to form into a person.

Caroline was standing next to her, holding out a black-gloved hand. “Do you need help up?” She sounded as kind and gentle as ever, even surrounded by the blinding whiteness. “It’s okay. You can do it. You have to…”

Chell’s head felt fuzzy. Caroline was dead, wasn’t she? What had happened? She’d been in the park, she remembered that. She went to confront Glados, and then…

Something shimmered just above Caroline’s hand. Chell squinted at it. It was a string, running around her wrist and then traveling upwards. There were strings on Caroline’s elbows and legs, too, and one running from her head.

A second look revealed that Caroline’s face was painted on a wooden doll, eyes eternally half-open and mouth trapped in a red paint smile.

Chell screamed and staggered to her feet, boots crunching in a powder that didn’t feel like snow at all. It seemed more like white sand. The Caroline puppet danced in front of her, and this time when she spoke it sounded more like another voice imitating her in a shrill tone.

“You have to get up, Chell! You have to. You have to Contract. You have to fight and save us all. You have no choice. You have to, you have to!”  The marionette Familiar danced about, limbs rattling and face staring vacantly forward.

Hands shaking, Chell manifested her gun and fired shots of light magic at the Familiar. One of its arms tore off and fell with a wooden thud on the ground. The strings jerked and pulled the puppet up and away, back into the sky.

They were in the park, and yet they weren’t. The snow had become fine white sand, the trees pillars of cold metal surrounding flat, paper buildings painted to resemble architecture from a century ago. Some of the buildings were wrinkled and curled like wet paper. What hung above them could hardly be called a sky; white fabric seemed to drape over everything like a massive tent, and the holes torn into the fabric displayed nothing but blackness. There was something up there at the center of the impossibly high tent, giving off a soft silver glow, but she couldn’t make it out.

And there were figures lying all around. They sprung up to their feet the moment she took a step, wooden Marionette familiars in magical girl and boy costumes she didn’t recognize. They turned to her with ever-grinning faces and chuckled, all in that same mocking voice, before advancing upon her with sharpened teeth.

So, the Witch was completely aware of her presence. Why wouldn’t it be? It was apparently made up of Glados and some tiny part of the Witch Goddess. Both of them would recognize her.

Shuddering, Chell dropped a portal beneath her own feet and sunk into it before the puppets could converge, emerging just outside of their deadly circle. She fired at them, knocking them aside and scattering limbs, only for the puppets to simply reform themselves and get back up. She supposed she shouldn’t expect even the Familiars of a Witch like this to be mere cannon fodder.

A puppet dressed like a boy in a silver costume spun its head all the way around to grin at Chell, laugh, and fly at her. She braced for an impact, but none came; instead, the puppet smashed into a blue crystal barrier and fell to pieces on the ground.

Chell turned to find Wheatley holding his hand out, catching his breath. When he realized she was looking at him he turned away too quickly for her to see his face.

“...Wheatley.” She wasn’t sure, after all of this, what to say or how to feel. Her mind wouldn’t let her dwell on it, too focused on the adrenaline of the battle. He was being entirely too evasive, fighting the Familiars from what she realized was a safe distance from herself.

Was he really scared of her? After what he’d done? What gave him the right to hide?

The silver puppet was reforming itself, readjusting its head after replacing its limbs. It chuckled and opened its head to reveal sharp wooden teeth. The head jerked back when it did as if being tugged, and everything clicked into place in Chell’s mind.

She had one good shot, aiming it at the little shimmer in the air just above the puppet’s head. The threads snapped in twain and the puppet fell to the ground, its grin morphing into a frown. “I don’t hate you!” it squeaked before trying to take a chomp out of Chell’s arm. She made quick work of it with a few close-range shots; this time it fell apart and dissolved into nothing.

“The strings! You have to target the strings.” Chell would not have imagined her next conversation with Wheatley would involve battle tactics, but she wasn’t about to let him die before they straightened things out. Why was he being so quiet anyway? He ran his mouth when stressed and chattered through Witch fights to reassure himself. He was fighting just fine, trapping marionettes in crystal and slicing their strings with barriers, but he wasn’t saying a damn thing. He was giving everything the same vacant, frightened gaze, and deliberately avoiding eye contact with her.

The cluster of marionettes didn’t take long to dispose of using that method. It was once they were cleared out and she had a chance to catch her breath that Chell realized what a relatively small group that had been. The Labyrinth seemed to stretch on forever, and the Familiars they’d been facing had emerged from a relatively tiny area. There was no reason to believe the lull would last.

That left her alone with Wheatley. She had no idea whether Rita’s group had been engulfed by the Labyrinth; she couldn’t spot them where she stood looking over the vast, hill-covered landscape. Glados’s body was nowhere to be found; that she found that a small relief didn’t do much to assuage her guilt.

Glados had died to save them all, in her own backwards way. She had chosen to die a hero when Chell couldn’t bring herself to become a Queen and take the life of another into her hands. Hadn’t Chell thought that Glados deserved to die? Wasn’t this a rightful end for her, the best thing that could have happened? So why did she want to throw up when she thought about it?

Wheatley wasn’t running away from her now. He approached her hesitantly, blue eyes wide and hands fidgeting.

Chell gave him a hard punch in the nose.

Cartilage cracked under her knuckles, and blood trickled onto his lip. Chell withdrew a step; she hadn’t meant to hit him that hard. He covered his nose and wiped blood away, but still didn’t say a thing.

What had she expected? A rambling apology? Hopes that they could go back to the way things were before? Defensiveness? She thought he heard a gasp of breath from him almost as if he was trying to speak, but nothing was coming out. He was just hesitating, ignoring the broken nose.

“...I knew it wouldn’t hurt.” She had to have been blind not to notice how Wheatley would take a beating and stop caring instead of whining up a storm. “That was for me.” Chell felt she had to say something. “Why are you just staring like that? Why are you trying to protect me now? What’s wrong with you!?”

She couldn’t finish. The punch hadn’t satisfied her the way she’d hoped; instead it was just opening the blister of her anger at a time when she knew she couldn’t afford distractions. She spun around and marched off towards a cluster of rod-trees. It didn’t matter which direction she went in, not when she had no way of keeping her bearings. She just couldn’t be around Wheatley.

She couldn’t be around anyone.

* * *

 

“Craig? Craig?!” Kevin shook his brother, begging him to wake up. “Come on! You’re okay, right? Craig?”

Craig groaned and shuddered, mumbling something incoherent.

“What? What is it? Do you need healing magic? Because I can do that now! Heal, I mean. We’re in a Labyrinth, though I’m not sure why. I can help take you out, but you need to wake up! Please…!”

The older Wilson opened one eye. “I was trying to say that you’re kneeling on my hand.”

“Oh. Oh! Sorry!” Kevin sprung back, wiping tears away and replacing his glasses. To his relief, Craig sat up and wobbled to his feet, apparently unharmed.

“I’m fine, Kevin. Really. What happened? Where...are we?”

“Um, like I said. Labyrinth. I don’t know whose. Wait, stay still!” Kevin raised his wand and fired starbursts at Familiars in the shape of flying books; they fell to the ground and shriveled into nothing before they could advance on Craig. “Those things are everywhere. There are big marionettes, too. There was this huuuuuge explosion, but not the kind that hurt, and then everything was wrapped in a big swirl of black and white. And then I heard a weird voice speaking but I couldn’t see anything. And then we woke up here. See?”

He pointed to the center of the Labyrinth, visible from the distance. Hanging at the peak of the fabric sky, swinging back and forth precariously, was a great glass orb. Tattered bits of ribbon and cloth trailed from it, and there was some kind of silver glow coming from within.

“I think that’s the Witch. I’m getting better at spotting them already, right? I tried to investigate but you were down here and I don’t know where everyone else is, and I didn’t want to leave you alone. This is exciting! And not scary. Really. I’m not scared.” Kevin hoped Craig wouldn’t detect the crack in his voice.

If he did, Craig mercifully didn’t comment on it. Instead he looked in the direction Kevin was pointing, and then all around them. “It’s...massive. I’ve never seen a Labyrinth this big before. I can’t even see the end of it. Wait, where’s Mr. Johnson?”

“Who? Oh, the guy who knew Wheatley, right? I…” Kevin winced. “I can’t find him. Or Rita. The explosion must have separated us. But we’re fine, right? I mean, they’re fine. Rita’s tough. I bet if I flew up I could get a better view, but I can’t leave you alone down here.”

Craig wasn’t panicking. He never seemed to do so; that one fight against the Worm Witch was the one time Kevin had ever seen Craig crack. Now Craig was trapped in a dangerous place without any magic at all, and he was just thoughtfully pacing and considering the situation. Why couldn’t Kevin do that? Whenever he tried to focus his mind shot in a thousand places at once; he always had to force himself to concentrate. Right now Kevin had no choice but to concentrate on how dangerous everything was.

“Kevin. Take me up with you.”

“Wait, what? But it’s dangerous up there! What if I slip up and drop you? And there are things flying around! They look like strings or snakes or something. I can’t lose you! I can’t lose anyone!”  
Kevin, trembling, stopped abruptly when he felt Craig’s hands on his shoulder. Craig was looking right into his eyes, as implacable as ever.

“Kevin,” Craig said. “You can do this. I can focus and try to find out more about this Witch while you protect me. I’ll act as your eyes and ears. And get a good picture while your hands are free.” He pulled out his phone. “You’re the one of us who can fly. And I know I’ll be safe with you protecting me. Fact: you did it before, remember?”

Kevin hadn’t realized he was trembling until that moment. Craig was trusting Kevin with his life. The idea of Craig losing his life for Kevin’s sake frightened him more than anything he could imagine in that giant Labyrinth, not the least because in a sense it wouldn’t be the first time. Kevin swallowed, looked up again at the nearly limitless sheet sky and nodded.

“Okay. Hold on!” Kevin made his wings appear on his back and hovered behind Craig, lifting him under the arms and holding Craig in front of him. “You’re surprisingly light!”

“You’ve got enhanced strength now. But what do you mean, surprisingly?!” Craig shot Kevin a look as they took off heavenwards.

“I mean I’ve never carried a person before, and you’re taller. You know what I mean, Craig!”

Immediately Kevin understood why Craig had agreed to be his ‘eyes.’ He himself had to concentrate on looking upwards and around him in the crowded sky.

Blood-red ribbons dropped from the tent, some forming grasping hands and others tying themselves in butterfly-bow shapes. They swung at him, grabbing and attempting to snag his leg; he shredded one with a burst of starlight. A dancing puppet nearly bit his leg off before he smashed it to pieces with his wand, strings and all. He couldn’t allow anything to crash into him or toss him back down to the ground. Kevin knew he might survive an impact, but Craig would not.

“Do you see anything, Craig? I can get a bit higher. It’s just...it feels like I haven’t gotten any closer.”

Craig shook his head, holding his cell phone out in front of him. “I got a few aerial photos but I don’t see any exit yet, or any real movement. Get us a bit higher.”

“Okay…!” Kevin flapped his wings and pushed onwards, though it felt as if the air around him was thickening and getting heavier. He was sure he wasn’t tiring; something was pushing against him. And no matter how far he flew, the orb still seemed just as far away.

“I feel like I should really be flying into space by now. Maybe that’s why I’m getting dizzy? Except if we were really in space, we’d explode.”

“I think I see something!” Craig held the phone out and started taking pictures. “We’re actually very high up. And this is...definitely bigger than the park. Wait, Kevin. I think I see something green down there. That might be Rita!”

Whatever force was pressing against Kevin’s face seemed to get heavier and heavier, even if he couldn’t see anything. “What about Chell and Wheatley?”  
“No sign of Chell. Or Wheatley. Um, Kevin, listen. If you see Wheatley, you should-Kevin!? Kevin, we’re dropping!”

“I know! I can’t get past something up here! I’m not strong enough to break through it. It’s like a net or water or something…!” Kevin’s vision blurred, and then his strength gave out as his wings shattered into life. He started plummeting towards the ground, facing up towards the unreachable sky. “I’m sorry…!”

“Kevin!” Craig was holding onto him for dear life, yet still managed to sound commanding and calm. “You can do this! Forget reaching the top. We got a view. Start falling towards your left and glide downwards. We can reach Rita that way. Can you still fly?”

“I-I think so.” Kevin willed his wings back and spread them out, slowing their fall. “I’m gliding at least. I guess the Witch would be pretty stupid if it just let us fly up there like that…”  
“Don’t worry about it. We covered a lot of ground, and you need to save your strength. Fact: you’re being very brave, Kevin.”

“No I’m not! I’m scared. That’s not brave at all!” Kevin narrowly avoided being smothered by two serpentine ribbons, tearing through them with his wand and turning himself around so he could face the ground. He saw a small green figure moving around, lightning cracking around her.

“Oh, that must be Rita! You were right! And...uh, she’s fighting something. I didn’t see any red wolf Familiars before…”  
“Wait. Red wolf?!”

There wasn’t time to discuss it further. Kevin had slowed his descent, but he was still unclear on landing. He hit the ground and tumbled into a hill of sand, landing on his back in a heap next to a dazed Craig.

He could see signs of a fight just nearby; Rita’s telltale lightning sent green flashes through the sky. Before he could right himself, a much taller figure leaned over him.

“You kids alright down there?” Cave sounded surprisingly calm, all things considered. Then again, Kevin knew very little about Cave; maybe he was used to strangeness.

Craig groaned and sat up, helping Kevin do the same. “We’re fine, Mr. Johnson,” the older brother insisted as he dusted sand out of his hair. “I’m glad you’re unharmed, too.”

“Good. Then help me stop this.” Cave pointed to the clearing ahead of them, just as Penelope snarled and leaped at a badly bleeding Rita.

* * *

 

“That really the best you got?!” Rita laughed in the face of danger, and that included dire monster Labyrinths and copiously bleeding bite wounds from rival shapeshifting magical girls. “It’s just my arm! I got two! You didn’t even take it off!”

“SHUT UP! Stop making a joke of everything!” Penelope’s voice was distorted in her current form, twisted into a throaty growl. She had blood running down her lips and her fur stood on end. “You’re a fake and a coward! This is all your fault! It’s your fault she’s gone!”

Penelope howled and a violet blur appeared from nowhere, slamming Rita into a steel beam tree. Her head spun as she glared up at Alex, who stood in front of her with the same cold gaze he always wore.

“So that’s how you’re proving what a coward I am, huh.” Rita wiped off her mouth. “Ganging up on me. Well, I’m sure Glados would have approved…”

Alex narrowed his eyes. “You have no right to speak of Glados, traitor. You helped Chell, and she brought this thing into the world.”

“That...wasn’t her fault.” The fact that she hadn’t seen Chell since the girl had gone to confront Glados gnawed at Rita’s mind even as she sped back to her feet and channeled lightning through her chain, using it to deflect Alex’s sword. “And Glados was killin’ us slowly! You think she would have cared if I burned myself out for her sake? If you two did? She didn’t care about you! You were just useful idiots for her to boss around and feel some sense of power!”

Penelope roared and dove at Rita from behind, her wolflike form pinning the magical girl down. Her eyes seemed to burn as red as her Soul Gem. “I’ll avenge her. She would never have died! She would never have died intentionally for the likes of Chell OR you! She-dammit!”

A flash of light filled the air behind Penelope, and the startled wolf backed up before turning back into her human form. Rita forced herself upwards and looked for the source of the distraction. Kevin was standing at the edge of the clearing, staring at both of them with wide eyes.

“Please, stop! Stop this, Penelope!” He was holding his wand out in front of him, looking more frightened than anything else. “I don’t think anyone would have wanted you to kill in their memory! It’s not right!” 

“...Um, Glados probably would have wanted that,” Rita had to admit. “I know I ain’t helping here. But thanks, Kevin! Don’t worry about me, go find-”

“Oh. It’s you.” Penelope looked odd in her human form, dressed in her red magical girl outfit stained with blood. “Go away! You don’t know anything. You’re just some stupid kid who couldn’t even make the right wish.”

Oh, that did it. Kevin looked about to cry, and Rita couldn’t let anyone get away with making kids cry. She glared at Penelope and spat on the ground between them. “You leave him outta this! You can look him in the eye after you exploited his trust? He’s what, 12? I mean I would’ve been fine at that age but that’s too young for anyone else...to...what are you coverin’ your face for?”

It became evident quickly that Penelope was covering her face because she was crying. Rita was astonished at how quickly that took the wind from her righteous rage-powered sails.

“I told you why, she died! She told us this might happen. I knew you were dense, Rita, but this is something new. Where the hell do you think we are right now? Whose Labyrinth do you think this is?!” Penelope pointed up to the sky. “See that?! That’s her Witch. She was my Queen! She gave us a purpose. She actually cared about us, unlike anyone else. She saw a use for us. What are we going to do now?!”

“...Oh.” Somehow Rita knew Glados would make a fearsome Witch, but she always assumed it wouldn’t happen in her lifetime. Rita would have her cool, heroic death and redeem herself for what happened to her family, and Glados would just keep on being Glados. “Well, uh. Damn. But look. She’s gonna start trying to kill us. Frankly I’m surprised we ain’t encountered more than small fry here already. I’m not saying we not fight, cuz I do owe you an ass-kicking, just...maybe later.”

“There is no later. Alex and I are going to become Witches here and devour you for her sake. We decided it after she told us what might happen.” Penelope was still crying, but there was a strange, feral grin on her face. “We can’t go home. Nobody’s going to just take us in. This is the best ending we could possibly have.”

The temptation to wish them the best with that rose within Rita, and she attributed it to frustration and the last bit of influence Court mentality had. She really, really did not want to defend or help them. Wouldn’t they just go on bullying other Magi without their Queen if they survived this Labyrinth? That was their coping method, as far as Rita could figure. Rita wanted to blaze brightly and burn out quickly; those two just took their problems out on everyone else and convinced themselves it was a good cause. The Queen was good at presenting herself as a cause.

_Can’t believe what I’m about to say. Chell better appreciate it._

“Do you hear yourselves!? That’s the worst way you could possibly go out! Stopping that from happening to anyone ever again was the whole reason we attempted this stupid plan in the first place! Glados-jesus, I can’t believe I’m defending Glados,” Rita said. “But all that science stuff she did was to find some way out of people becoming Witches. So you wanna just give Kyubey what he wants and claim it’s for her?” Not that it had ever stopped Glados from giving Kyubey what he wanted when it served her, she thought bitterly.

“Don’t try to stop us. We have nothing else to live for. So we’re going to push ourselves over the edge and become a Witch together.” Penelope walked over and squeezed Alex’s hand. “Nothing will ever drive us apart again. Who cares what happens to the rest of the world? It never gave a crap about people like you or us, and you know it.”

“Oh, come on! Look, I know Court Talk when I hear it. She got in your head, didn’t she?” Rita tapped the side of her head. “You know, the Queen. Tells ya that the whole world is exactly as ruthless and cruel as we could be so her actions make sense in your mind. But you know what that is? That’s bullcrap! There’s people who wanna help if they could. There’s magical girls and boys who know how awful the system is and they still don’t fall to the level of some ugly kitten-looking alien hivemind! I dunno where you two came from but someone would give a crap about you if you asked! Someone would help ya screw your head on straight!”

Penelope and Alex just stared at the outburst, still holding hands.

“...But you don’t wanna get better, do ya. If you become a Witch, you don’t have to face anything for what you’ve done. Witches ain’t responsible for anything. I mean...jeez, even Glados tried to make amends in her own weird way in the end.” Rita took a deep breath. “Kevin, I don’t want you to see this. Go find the others and get somewhere safe. I gotta stop these two before…” She trailed off, staring at the form descending from above them.

A humanoid shape floated down and landed between her and Penelope, twirling around in a frilly green leotard and wide-brimmed hat. Its movements were wobbly and doll-like, and it had a triumphant grin painted on its wooden face. Although it was obviously a marionette, the resemblance was obvious.

“...I think this is about all I can take.” Rita held her head as she stared at a puppet lookalike of herself. “I don’t need this. I’m not old enough to drink!”

Penelope and Alex stared at the puppet as well, the girl standing protectively in front of the boy. The marionette Familiar twirled and laughed, and then began to speak in a sing-song manner. It sounded like Glados trying to imitate Rita and doing a poor job of it, but that didn’t make it any less unsettling to hear it speak.

“I’m a knight who wants a princess,” it said. “Knights are valiant and strong. And I was a brave knight! I wasn’t even afraid of you and I wouldn’t grovel for you.” The marionette spun and bowed on one knee. “Do you want to know something funny? I was going to die for you, my queen. That’s because I’m stupid. You aren’t worth dying for. No one would ever die for you if they really knew you. You’ll never find another knight, and if you do you’ll just burn them up and throw them away. It’s what you do, my queen! It’s what you do. Burn them up, burn them up, burn them up…”

Before the marionette could do much more, it had a spiked ring through its midsection. Alex followed it up by slicing its head right off. Rita, all too willing to help get rid of the Familiar before it said another damn word, wrapped it in her whip and electrocuted it until it was a mess of burnt wood and broken strings.

Had Glados really thought of her like that? Was she really more than an accessory? She couldn’t have cared about people she threw aside, could she? That almost made it worse.

“I wasn’t her knight.” Rita whispered the words and covered the still-bleeding bite wound with her hand.

However unnerved Rita had been by the Familiar likeness, it seemed to have a worse effect on Penelope and Alex. They were both staring, pale and silent, before the redhead spoke through tears. “How...how could she have a Familiar of you? She told us Witches surround themselves with things and people to make them happy. We’re not here at all. But you…!”

“She thought you were a knight.” Alex’s voice trembled for the first time since Rita had ever heard him speak. “Then what was I? I would have died for her. We knew her better than anyone. She showed us all her ugliness and we still would have died for her…”

“...Then don’t die.” Kevin was still standing at the edge of the metal-tree clearing, clutching his wand to his chest.

“What do you care if I do?” Penelope glared through tears. “I lied to you, remember? So you’d make a pact I knew would kill you in the end. I killed a lot of weak Magi for her sake. Isn’t it fitting to die too? Isn’t that just?”

“...Just, maybe, but stupid. Look.” Rita knew she’d hate herself for this later. “You can’t make up for doing all the crap you did for her by dying. It won’t mean a damn thing to her. The best thing we can do for Glados is free her from this form and let her have whatever kind of rest Magi have in the end. I don’t know what to think about the fact that she apparently missed me when I left, especially since she was the one who ordered me dead for trying to leave in the first place. Maybe even she didn’t know how she felt about people in the end. I won’t tell you how to feel about her. But you don’t wanna die to help that thing up there. I mean...”

She wiped her eyes with her thumb and forefinger and told herself it was just sand. “You heard that puppet. Does she seem happy like this?”

“I can’t forgive you for getting Kevin involved the way you did.” Craig appeared from the woods, standing protectively next to Kevin. “But that doesn’t mean we want you to die.”

“I don’t want you to die! I know you were lying to me, and you hurt my brother and put my parents in danger. I sort of...I don’t know what to think of…” Kevin trembled and then shook his head. “But I don’t want anyone else to die. It’s too awful!”  
Rita could swear she saw a much taller figure behind them, but it was impossible to read Cave’s expression from where she stood.

“I honestly can’t believe I’m passing up a chance to kick your ass, but let’s put this way,” Rita said. “You wanna die? Fine. Lay out your gems and I’ll take care of it. Otherwise? Shut up and help us do the one thing we can still do for Glados. What was it you said? She died for us and Chell? Then help find Chell.”

Penelope looked to Alex, and then to Kevin and Craig, and finally gave Rita the most helpless, desperate look she’d ever seen her rival use. Alex whispered something in Penelope’s ear, and she nodded.

“Find Chell? Forget it.” Penelope tossed her hair in a weak attempt to retain some of her shattered arrogance. “We’re going to fight in our own way. And afterwards? We’re going to settle this, Rita. With all of you.” She grabbed Alex’s hand and rushed off into the forest of metal.

Now that she didn’t have a distraction, Rita became even more acutely aware of her battle wounds. “Hey, Kevin? You still do that glowy healy thing? Could use it…” She slumped against a tree. “Seriously, this would be a really dumb time for me to die when the biggest fight of my life is right there waiting for me.”

Kevin obediently ran over, holding his hands out as healing energy closed up her wounds. “You aren’t planning on dying in that fight, are you?”

“What? Screw that. We’re getting nachos after this. I dunno who but after the night I’ve been having, someone owes me nachos. Or bulgogi. Or both. Anyway, I’m not planning on dying until I’m old. Which is gonna be never.” Rita laughed, but she was forcing it. “Still kinda wish I kicked their asses.”

“Yeah, kid, I’ll be honest.” That was Cave, ambling into the clearing. “I would have let those two dicks do whatever they were gonna do. But I’m not so sure I’m such a great person myself nowadays. You did good.” He gave her a pat on the shoulder, and then started pacing back and forth. “Okay, so I’ve been kinda holding off and rolling with things for the past hour or so because otherwise I will completely lose my mind, but while we have this moment I’m gonna go ahead and ask it. What the HELL is going on!? How the hell did that girl do the thing with the electricity and the other girl turn into a wolf and the guy turn invisible!? How the hell did the kid with the glasses fly?! We don’t know how to make people do all that yet! And you know what? Screw the rest, Where is my kid and what happened to him?”

Oh, right. Wheatley.

“Your nephew?” Rita felt like answering the other questions would be a lot easier than that last one. “We don’t know. He, Chell and Doug are all missing right now.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “He, uh…”

“He snapped and hurt Chell.” Craig didn’t sound angry, just solemn and resigned. “I don’t know what’s going to happen when we find him again. It’s her place to forgive; he just yelled at me.”

“Well, I’m not gonna…” Rita caught herself at Cave’s pained expression. Concerned adults who were still alive remained  a bit of a novelty to her. “I mean...I’m gonna kick his ass for that, don’t get me wrong. But it’s Chell’s call.”

“So he needs a talk, is what you’re saying.” Cave dusted himself off. “Well, all this is scientifically fascinating, but I got a job to do.”

“Uh...wait!” Craig grabbed Cave’s arm. “Mr. Johnson! It’s extremely dangerous out there. We need to get you out of here as soon as we find an exit…if there are any…”

“Look, kid. I know you mean well. All of you. I don’t know you, but you seem like good sorts and you’re probably great influences on the kid. But he’s…” Cave fumbled in his pocket and cursed. “I forgot I haven’t smoked in 20 years. What I’m getting at is...when the hell have I ever been at a loss for words?”

Kevin looked up at Cave and smiled. “He’s someone you love, and that matters more than the danger. We’ll keep you safe and we’ll find him.”

Cave stared at Kevin. “Where did you find this kid? But...yeah, okay. We’ll go with something like that. I’ll play along, but in the meantime you kids are gonna tell me everything. The superpowers, the 60s flashback we’re walking through, the whole deal.”

“Well, alright…” Rita rose to her feet. “But it never does any good to explain this stuff to an adult. Uh, except Chell’s mom…”

“Kid, you don’t know my kinda science.”

* * *

 

Some part of Wheatley wondered if it would be poetic justice for him to die fighting this Witch, or if it would just be stupid. He suspected the latter.

It wasn’t that the wooden puppet Familiars were very difficult to beat. Chell had been correct about the strings being the weakness. It wasn’t even that they were so numerous, springing up from beneath the sand like sprung traps to dive at him.

It was just that there seemed to be no end. The Labyrinth stretched on in every direction, a twisted landscape of beam tree forests and sand dunes, black and white all over. Attempts to jump up onto the platforms and reach the Witch proved fruitless, as they just vanished underneath him; it was as if the Witch was taunting him. He had no idea how long he’d been wandering, and for what reason? The Witch was going to kill them all anyway.

It wasn’t too hard to put together what had happened when he was unconscious. His Gem had been nearly jet black when he’d thrown it away; when he woke up, it was mostly clear. Someone had recovered it and healed it. Glados would never do such a thing; that meant that despite it all, _Chell had chosen to save him._

Wheatley squeezed the silver Gem shard in his hands and held back tears. He wasn’t worth her mercy. He definitely wasn’t worth poor Doug’s life. Was this what happened to people when he cared for them? Was this what he did to them? He latched onto them, grabbed them and smashed them into pieces.

He opened his mouth, and again nothing came out. He hadn’t intended to stare silently when he’d run into Chell. He wanted to apologize, vomit it all out with just the right words to make everything better again. _I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was monstrous and selfish. I’m sorry I failed you when you needed me most. I’m sorry I was cruel to Craig and Doug and endangered Rita and Kevin. I just want us to be friends again because I love you all and I have nowhere else to go. I figured out what I am and I’m so, so sorry._

What a lot of garbage! It was all true, but there was no way it would be enough. He was sure anything he said would be too trite, too simple to serve as an apology. Certainly he wouldn’t forgive himself based on that. So his words disappeared before they could reach his tongue, and he was left with his own silence.

He’d been conscious long enough to see Glados hold her Soul Gem above her, glimmering black, and watch the Witch erupt from within. Just like poor Alice, he thought. I was miserable and feeling sorry for myself then too, wasn’t I? You know, while someone else died. Bloody well know what I’m good at, at least. Doing a bang-up job of that promise I made to myself to be a better person. I thought it’d be easy! They make it look easy. Was I really jealous of them all for being better people? How many layers of pathetic is that? That’s a bloody baklava of pathetic!

“It’s a fascinating Witch, isn’t it? Even we’ve never seen the likes of it.”

Wheatley jumped at the voice mercifully interrupting his own self-flagellation, then narrowed his eyes as the white creature wove between his legs. He nudged Kyubey away and ducked through the beam forest, but the Incubator followed.

“We aren’t sure what the being on the other side of the portal was, but what came through was a piece of a very powerful Witch. Had such a being that you identify as a 'goddess' truly existed, it would have disrupted our plan entirely! Of course, as soon as Doug had that vision we had to keep an eye on him.” Kyubey ignored it when Wheatley picked him up, set him on a transparent glass rock and marched on. Somehow the creature caught up anyway and kept talking.  

“It was good luck for us when Chell manifested spatial magic and the ability to cross points in space, even across other timelines. That was why we chose to observe your experiment. Had a being able to subvert our power actually appeared, we could catch her early and analyze her. As it is, it led to nothing."

Catch her early. Analyze her. The Incubators viewed even a being like that as another experiment. That must have been where Glados learned it. Wheatley brushed past Kyubey again, not even looking at the creature.

"The Witch is actually just toying with you. Most of its power is still contained in that core up at the top. Right now it’s just amusing itself. Likely it doesn’t even register you as a threat yet. When it does, we’ll really something impressive.” Kyubey jumped up on Wheatley’s shoulder, only to be set back down on the ground. “Then again, it’s rare for a Witch to make such a concerted effort to manipulate and communicate instead of just devour. Most of them can’t speak at all. This one is enhanced by the fragment of a much larger Witch. That would explain how it has a voice, but not why.”

Something about that last bit nagged at the back of Wheatley’s mind, but he couldn’t concentrate on it through a thick fog of confused emotion.

He wasn’t even scared of the Witch anymore. It would kill him or it wouldn’t. He suspected if he tried to think about what it would do to anyone else, his Gem would darken with guilt like paper in flames. He couldn’t insult Chell’s decision by allowing himself to turn anyway. He…

Chell’s choice. Chell chose for him to live. No matter how much she might hate him now, Chell wanted him to live. What did that mean? Why?!

“At any rate, right now it’s just hiding within its Labyrinth. It might be strong enough to have an effect outside of the Labyrinth, and I suspect after it eats you it’ll be so powerful it won’t need one. At any rate, we can use the opportunity to recruit replacements. In the face of danger, it’s easy to find more magical--”

Kyubey didn’t finish the sentence. Wheatley had acted on impulse and now backed up in horror at what he’d done, the Incubator sealed in a solid orb of blue crystal like a big paperweight. Something told him that wouldn’t kill Kyubey, for nothing could live that long in such a small body without being able to survive far worse. Still, the sight of it was ghastly. Wouldn’t it have been smarter to let the smug little creature babble on and reveal something more useful about their opponent? Why’d he let his temper slip again? He covered his mouth and took off running, not caring about the direction, until the trees cleared from his path.

He couldn’t describe it any other way. The steel trees literally swept aside like curtains to form a circular glade, and the sand beneath his feet cleared away to reveal a round wooden stage. Three puppets hung limp in the center, their forms covered in white cloth like Halloween costume ghosts.

Whatever show was about to start, Wheatley wasn’t the only audience member. He could see a break in the circle straight ahead of him. From the other side of the stage Chell stared right back at him, and the puppets began to rise.

* * *

 

Where there had been steel trees, Chell saw real ones taking their place. The cardboard buildings were looking realer and more material now, like she could walk into them and rest. She knew it had to be exhaustion, stress playing with her, or perhaps the Witch’s spell. She had to rub her sore knuckles to remind herself that she was standing on the sand of a Labyrinth, and the stage in front of her was populated by puppets. No matter how real the Familiars were starting to look, how much more difficult it was to recognize their wooden joints and jerky movements, they were not real.

She knew they were puppets. She knew how to easily dispatch them by breaking the strings. So why couldn’t she move? Why did she feel as heavy as the sand around her and as rooted as the steel, watching the white cloth fall from the Witch’s strange little show?

There was a puppet in white facing away from her, though she could see nothing past the stage beyond the dense forest. The one facing towards her wore dark purple, her brown hair falling around her face and her Magi garb a black-veiled gown. Caroline, the Caroline she knew, had always looked a bit like she was going to a funeral.

“She’s not real,” Chell whispered as Caroline jerked to life, facing into the ‘audience.’ “She’s not real,” she repeated. It was the Witch. Glados was messing with her right to the end. But that was the Witch’s mistake. What more could be done to Chell? She already felt shattered; it was comfortable and numbing, admitting it.

“My name is Caroline,” the puppet said. “I’m the good Caroline! I’m who Caroline Glades could have been and should have been, but wasn’t.”

That helped break the illusion a little bit. That wasn’t Caroline’s voice (or was it? Did Chell even remember Caroline’s voice anymore?) and that wasn’t something she would have said. Even if this Witch was somehow strong enough to communicate, nothing she said through her puppets sounded particularly human.

And Glados would never have said anything so self-deprecating, would she?

“I was born when it was alright for girls to be smart. I was allowed to go to school because I had money. Nobody asked me to be a princess or a saviour so I didn’t have to be. But I still loved science! That was why I chose to work with the White Queen.” The doll threw her head back. “The Queen wanted to do more than survive. She wanted to change it! She wanted order among the Magi, a rigid order instead of chaos. So even though she was cruel, I understood her. At least I told her I understood her. There was no way I wasn’t mocking her, not someone like me…”

Go to school? Asked to be a princess? What did that even mean? Chell tried to make herself find the strings on the Caroline puppet, to ignore any of the Witch’s ramblings to itself, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. Some part of her wanted to hear it. It was the mentor she never really understood, the one she failed, speaking through Glados. She told herself it was so she could figure out the Witch and its vulnerabilities; she knew she was lying.

Or it was Caroline as Glados saw her. Did Caroline really say she understood Glados, or was that just the twisted memory of a Witch?

“But then I did a bad thing! I did a bad thing and became a Witch. Do you want to know what I did, Chell? Do you want to know what I did in the name of Science and foolish optimism? It’s too cruel.” The doll covered her face and shook her head. “It’s so cruel, Chell! I deserved exactly what happened to me.”

“NO!” Chell covered her mouth after the shout, her hands shaking. “No. You...she didn’t. I don’t care what she did, Glados. She didn’t murder people for her Science like you. She didn’t...betray them and leave them to die, like…” Him.  
She felt a bit foolish talking back to a Witch, as she doubted it was listening; it was probably just rambling.

Then a voice filled the area, booming from all sides. **I’m not lying. Sit back down! You’re interrupting the show.**

Steel tree branches wrapped around her arms and pinned them, shoving her down into a sitting position. Chell didn’t have the strength to slip out through a portal, her exhaustion from the night still too great. Tree branches covered her eyes and pulled her downwards as a curtain closed in front of the Caroline puppet and a sign appeared bearing the word “INTERMISSION.”

Glados was right about one thing. She did want to see this to its end.

* * *

 

Wheatley told himself to call out to Chell and say something. She was right there on the other side of the puppets! She could hear him. She could certainly see him, even if she appeared to be looking right past him. But his throat was dry, and when he tried to speak he locked up. All the inadequate, too-small apologies built up inside of his chest like a roadblock and none got out.

Besides, one of the puppets was looking at him.

“My name is Doug Rattmann.” The puppet had drawn-on eyes and wooden skin, but it looked like the younger, childlike incarnation of Doug nonetheless.

Immediately Wheatley wanted to turn around and run. He couldn’t hear this Witch mock Doug, not when he was the one who’d ruined everything for Doug. He squeezed the shard of Soul Gem in his hand, refusing to let it go lest it turn to dust.

“I’ve lived a long time. When others died, I kept living. When it got lonely, I still kept living. I tried being a child and an adult and then decided on neither.” The puppet shrugged. “Me and Glados, we couldn’t fix anything but we both kept living. Didn’t that make Kyubey mad!”

That isn’t true, mate! I mean the bit about you being old is, I suppose, but not about you not fixing anything! Wheatley’s words still wouldn’t come. You had a great idea. I just mucked it up!

“I used to be Glados’s friend. I was allowed to call her Carol. After we fought I didn’t have any friends. So I tried to speak to a Familiar-Witch. I found a kid who was going to become a Witch and kept him alive a little longer. I was just lonely.”

And I was too! I was too, mate! I thought you could be family. I thought I’d be a good...assistant or son or whatever I could have been! Wheatley was finding it harder to tell that this Doug was a puppet; it looked more real with each movement, and the stage more lavish and decorated. Why did you have to bloody die?! I thought I could still make amends with you, maybe…!

As Wheatley didn’t speak aloud, the puppet didn’t hear him. “We had plans back when I was Glados’s partner. I forgot them. She forgot them too. That’s what happens when you live too long. People die and change and grow to hate you and you forget, forget, forget. One day you’ll forget me too! Because you won’t die.”

**You won’t, you won’t, you won’t die.** The thundering voice came from above, though all he could see when he looked up was the artificial moon and the tent-sky. **Your Gem is tainted and always will be, just like mine. But you’re afraid to die, just like I was. That’s so silly of you! I feel so wonderful now…you should turn too. Don’t be afraid to change. You won’t care that you hurt people because you won’t have any guilt. You’ll feel so. Much. Better!**

Wheatley crouched and covered his ears, shutting his eyes. He couldn’t watch any more of this. He couldn’t listen to the thing-that-was-no-longer-Glados speaking through a Doug puppet or in its own voice, not to him, not about him. He couldn’t go Witch, not when Chell had spared him. He wanted to shut down until it was all over, until the Witch’s awful little play was over. Kyubey had said it was toying with them, didn’t he? Then why didn’t it stop? What was it waiting for?

Something grasped his shoulder and pulled him up and back. It felt for a second as if he was being yanked out of a wall of water, and the trees were once again steel, the puppet suddenly far less human-looking and more childish in construction.

And someone was hugging him.

He wasn’t sure who it was until he glanced at his shoulder and caught a glimpse of reddish-brown hair. He still had trouble imagining it was more than an illusion until Cave broke the hug and stepped away, hands still on Wheatley’s shoulders. Cave looked so much older somehow, the lines under his eyes more visible and the bits of grey in his temples a little more obvious. All Wheatley could do was stare blankly and let the man speak.

Cave shook him first. “What the hell were you thinking?! You got stuck in a Contract you can’t break? Talk to me about that! Before you go off the deep end! I’m a god damn businessman, I know all about contracts!”

Wheatley screamed at himself to say something, but nothing came out. He wouldn’t cry in front of Cave. He couldn’t. That would just make it worse. He just stared, letting Cave shake him.

“I saw that weird bullcrap your friends have that they call magic. The superpowers or whatever. I know. They were trying to get me outta here, but I thought I saw you here. They’ll catch up in a sec, I’m sure.”

Cave had ditched the others in the middle of a Labyrinth. Wheatley sighed, still tongue-tied.

“They tell me you hurt someone. Who the hell is Chell, anyway?” Cave stopped short when he saw the look crossing Wheatley’s face at the mention of the name ‘Chell’ and seemed to drop it. “Well, look. Kid.” Cave stared right at Wheatley with the sort of intensity he usually only had when talking about science. “I don’t understand. Any of this. Any of it!” He waved a hand behind him at the Labyrinth. “It’s bonkers. It doesn’t make sense according to the science we know. Which just means we gotta work harder. If whatever you’ve been doing hasn’t been enough to save kids like you, it means we gotta work harder.”

“...We, Uncle?”

And with that, the log jam cleared. Wheatley’s voice was hoarse, but it was there. He couldn’t stop himself from saying anything stupid or terrible anymore, but at least he could say something. “Uncle, I’m sorry! I didn’t...I didn’t mean those things I said! Not really, or at least only a little. And I hurt you, and I-”

Cave stopped and held up a hand. “You.” He pointed at Wheatley. “You work on being a better you. Science works on figuring out whatever this is so we can crack it open, because that’s what science is supposed to do. Take life’s lemons and shove them right back. And I...you know. Be around more so you aren’t turning to lonely shut-ins in an attempt to replace me. Not that there’s anything wrong with befriending lonely shut-ins. But I’m you’re family. We’re supposed to be...you know. We try that. After y’all get rid of this thing. I’m sorry, is what I’m trying to say.”

“Right.” Wheatley couldn’t bring himself to smile, and didn’t know what else to say. He could go home; whatever else happened, he could go home in the end. “After we…”

Speaking was still difficult, and instead he found himself sobbing into an obviously awkward Cave’s chest. He doubted ‘science’ could really do anything against the Incubators, who used a science so advanced it could rightly be called magic. But Cave wanted to help them. There were people in the world who would help Magi, if only they knew. And Cave forgave him, whether he deserved it or not.

Being forgiven by someone made it okay, somehow, even if Chell never did. Not completely okay, but better. Cave thought he was worth saving.

And Chell did too. But why?

“Mr. Johnson! Mr. Johnson!” Wheatley heard Craig’s voice and immediately pulled back, remembering all the other people he owed apologies. Sure enough, Craig had caught up with Cave and was huffing and puffing. “Mr. Johnson,” Craig repeated. “Please...don’t run off! It’s dangerous! And I...fact: I was a lot stronger as a Magi. I need to get back into shape. But, Mr. John-...Wheatley.” He didn’t glare, which somehow made it worse. He just stood there.

“...Craig! Craig, I’m so sorry!” Wheatley ran right up to the befuddled Craig. “I’m sorry I was cruel and merciless and said those awful things and threw Chell under the bloody proverbial bus and now Kevin has to fight that THING because of ME and…”

“Wheatley! Wheatley, it’s enough! That’s enough. We’ll talk about it later. Witch.” Craig pointed upwards. “Rita and Kevin are here too.”

“If you won’t deck him I will!” Rita stalked over to Wheatley, who braced himself for an impact; none came. He opened his eyes to see her examining his face. “Or hey, looks like Chell decked ya nicely. How the hell didn’t you notice a broken nose? You’re tougher than I thought, for a slimy jerk.”

Self-consciously, Wheatley reached up and ‘set’ his nose. He didn’t feel a thing even if the noise made him wince. “Um, thanks, Rita. I guess. Listen, I’m sorry that-”

Rita snorted. “Words are cheap. Make it up in actions and we’ll see, Snape.”

“...I’m Snape now? I mean, alright.” Wheatley felt like withering under Rita’s glare, but he imagined that would just make it worse.

A higher-pitched voice chirped up behind him. “We agreed it was up to Chell,” Kevin said, holding his star-topped staff in front of him. When he saw Wheatley he smiled nervously and politely, but didn’t step any closer.

Wheatley lowered his head. “I’ll make it up in both. I promise! To all of you, and especially...where’s Chell?”

“We were hoping she’d be with you,” Craig said.

“Why would she want to spend any bloody time with me right now?! Wait, no, I just…” Wheatley held his temples. “I just saw her, I’m sure of it! On the other side of that theater…”

He pointed to the clearing, which had changed since he last saw it. The steel beams were growing together to form a cage, and there were countless more dolls than before, all of them surrounding a faint orange glow. The Doug doll was gone, or it had changed into one of the faceless Familiars when Wheatley had been broken out of its spell.

“I…” Wheatley pointed to the heap of dolls slowly sinking into a whirlpool of sand that was swallowing the stage. “I think she must be in there, mates!”

The dolls slowly turned their heads around at the sound of his voice. The ground shook as others burst from the ground by the tens, twenties, hundreds, all of them dressed as different magical girls and boys.

Above them, the moon was starting to split open. Something was emerging, something serpentine and ghostly with one golden eye.

“Um, Uncle?” Wheatley nudged Cave. “You should...go. I mean, follow Craig. Get going, please!”

“What the hell, kid? You’re not coming?!” Cave tugged at Wheatley’s arm, but the boy pulled it away.

“No, I...have to do what Rita said. And you said. And we’ve got to find Chell. She’s the one who could stop that thing up there. She’s the strongest! And I’ve got to apologize to her! Even if she hates me. So, um, please, mate!” Wheatley cast a blue barrier around Cave and Craig, the sort that would act like a protective bubble.

Craig gave a tight hug to Kevin. “You can do it, alright? Fact. I’ll text you updates and I’ll keep an eye on the outside.” He grabbed Cave by the arm and took off running before the older man could protest.

The army of puppet familiars all turned to face the intruders as the tattered tent sky began to tear away, revealing a sea of paper stars and tattered hanging ribbons. The Voice came from everywhere, all of the puppets speaking at once.

**I think it’s time for the grand finale. But I don’t want my puppet show to end. We’re going to stay here and you’re going to join me! You’ll become part of me. My Court. I’ll never be alone again.**

* * *

 

Chell was somewhere quiet, dark and cold, held there by countless wooden and steel hands. The stage had long vanished, and the Caroline doll, which hadn’t said a thing while she’d been dragged into this strange place, still swayed limp in front of her.

Another doll dropped, this one clad in white with brown hair and a red handkerchief. Other than the hair color and the splash of red, she looked identical to Glados.

Both of them snapped their heads up and held wooden hands, as if about to dance.

“The truth, the truth! It’s time for the truth. When you know it you’ll join us. You’ll be next! We’ll finally be so happy…”

* * *

 

“Hey, so that tent’s suspended on nothing. How’s that happening? Magnets or something?”

“Mr. Johnson, we need to go!”

Craig had run as fast as his legs would take him. Unable to do anything against the puppets as they fell against Wheatley’s flickering, fracturing barrier, he did his best to just ignore them. There was no good worrying about what he couldn’t help. He wasn’t sure at which point he’d become too tired to run further, or when Cave had grabbed him and carried him over his shoulder. Why were all the Johnsons so huge, anyway?

“You seem like a sharp kid. Real go-getter. Say, once I get my company going, you want an internship? How old you gotta be for an internship, anyway?”

“No thank you, Mr. Johnson. WE NEED TO GO. Please don’t stare at that! Or that!”

And did being infuriating run through the family?

A flash of white light indicated the end of the Labyrinth. Thank god, it had an end. They stumbled through, but the white didn’t end. There was just endless brightness, thick fog, and cold. Then Craig realized it wasn’t brightness; it was snow, a thick wall of snowfall blown nearly vertical by icy wind. The Fire Worm Witch had manifested as an earthquake; this Witch had conjured a blizzard around itself.

He could barely hear Cave shouting curses over the roaring wind, the older man gently setting him down in snow that already went past his knees and soaked through his socks. Craig shivered, reminding himself that hypothermia was probably the least of his worries at the moment. That’s when he noticed the shapes, barely visible in the snow and gently, gradually advancing.

“Hey! Hey!” He called out to the obscured strangers. “Can you take us somewhere with phone service? We need to get inside! Everyone needs to get inside! There’s a...hello?”

The people weren’t stopping, and Craig realized there were far, far more of them than he thought. There was a crowd forming around the blizzard-stricken park, walking through the snow as if it were nothing with an entranced gaze in their eyes and a serene smile. They were approaching from the left and right, men and women, old and young.

The Witch was drawing the city to itself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter left. (So no, despite the chapter title, this isn't the last one.)


	25. "Not Yet"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains some graphic violence. Reader discretion advised.

She tore her memories out of her mind and arranged them around herself, hanging them like stars in a galaxy. Even if her courtiers were only dolls, lifeless apparitions staring back at her with rictus painted grins and speaking in her own voice, they were present and could never abandon her. They would not die while she kept on living. They would suffer on her behalf and none of it would matter this time, because they were puppets. Nothing hurt puppets.

Yet the Witch hungered as all Witches do, feeling the void where there had once been something else. A mind? A name? A self? This was not enough. The dolls could not provide her company for long. She needed a Court, a legion of faces who would fear and respect her, who she could pretend loved her. Hadn’t she once desired something like that?

So she reached down to the intruders, the insects that hadn’t awakened yet, and called for them to change and join her. All they had to do was give into despair and they’d find happiness on the other end of it, happiness and liberation. She would break the shells of their eggs for them and they would gratefully join her, Witches upon Witches.

She reached hands outward to the ones whose souls were still edible, who could nourish her in her task, and said ‘come.’ Something, the other Thing inside of her, thrilled at the thought; It wanted to embrace them all. It urged her to embrace the entire world. Patience, she told It! Right now we are still too small.

She weaved her Labyrinth as an ever-changing thing, subject to her moods and her desires, prodding and testing the intruders until she could transform and save them. She could find a way. This was her laboratory, and she would Test them. (Test. It sounded good and right.)  In all of the many days and nights her past self had endured there had only been two puzzles she could not solve. One no longer mattered, for it had no answer.

And Selene, the Witch of Trials, would solve that puzzle here.

Chapter 25: “Not Yet.”

The Caroline puppet took on an all-too realistic face for a second, clasping her hands behind her back. She spoke with a voice that was distinctly not Caroline’s.

“It’s going to be alright,” she told Chell. “I have to scare you into breaking so you can become part of me. I can’t wait! You’ll be frightened for a little bit, but then you’ll be fine!” Before Chell could do anything else, ‘Caroline’ leaned forward and kissed Chell on the forehead.

The false room fell away and the puppets crumbled into dust. The hotel room scene around Chell tore away like paper in a harsh wind, revealing nothing but endless space full of shards of reality and warped, distant stars. Relentless cold and heat seared at Chell’s skin, but it was easy to ignore compared to what she saw.

The mask loomed over her, a tower, light oozing out of its mouth and eyes. Behind it was a body that stretched across the Space Between Spaces itself, nothing but an endless cloud of darkness and light with tendrils curling towards Chell.

The shards were opaque, their worlds hidden in fog. She was trapped there, alone in the space between spaces, unable to open a portal out without a reference point to the ‘outside.’ There would be no fleeing the Not Goddess now.

Chell bit down on her tongue to stop a scream, hovering in front of the mouth of the thing as its great grasping hands reached for her. She opened a portal fast enough to dart back, forming her light gun and staring up at its unreachable eyes.

Her hands shook as she aimed the gun, firing right into the maw of the Not Goddess.

* * *

 

“Become part of her?” Kevin backed up against the two older Magi as the puppet swarm advanced towards them, limbs akimbo and painted faces grinning. “Do Witches talk?”

Wheatley took a deep breath to calm himself so he could actually speak clearly, though his words still came out in a nervous stream. “Kyubey said something about it toying with us. I guess the reason it can talk clearly is because it’s so strong. It? She? Whichever! But if it’s coming out, either it thinks we’re a real threat now…”

Two dolls swung razor-sharp arms at Wheatley and he barely managed to deflect with a well-placed shield around the three of them. “Or she just intends to break her toys now that she’s bored with them!”

“Sounds like Glados,” Rita snorted. “But what was all that about the talking puppets about? Witches ain’t usually mean, not in that way. Just hungry and weird. Unless she wanted us to get all down about ourselves and…”

Doll after doll threw their bodies against the domed shield, and Wheatley knew it wouldn’t hold up for long. Great white jaws snapped open and shut, tinted blue by the crystal. At this rate either the shield would break or Wheatley’s gem would darken too much from stress and overuse, and... the gems!

“She wants to turn us into Witches! That’s what she meant by her ‘Court.’ Big bloody court of Witches running around having a fine time, I’ll bet!” He shuddered. “Or gobble up our Witches and just get bigger. She was all about controlling people in life, and your Witch is some barmy Dali painting version of who you used to be!” He added a second layer of crystal, but it wasn’t doing any good.

“Or have her familiars tear us up. The ones who survive would be the strongest Witches, I guess.” Rita brandished her chain whip. “Sounds about like her kinda thing. Look, just let me at ‘em and I’ll take care of this whole mess for you.”

“No you won’t!” Wheatley gawked at Rita. “There’s got to be millions! At least thousands!”

“Oh, suddenly you don’t want people to risk their lives for you?” Rita’s glare made Wheatley want to sink back into the sand, which wasn’t helping his concentration.

“GUYS! Now is not the time, okay!?” Kevin’s higher-pitched voice carried through the dome as he formed his wings. “We just have to fight through it and find Chell, right? I’ll fly up there and clear an area so you have some breathing room.”

“Wait, what? But-” Wheatley was sure he could think of a decent objection given more time. “You’re...this is your first Witch, mate! You need to stick by us!”

“I will! Just let me do this first. Hold on!” Kevin glowed brilliant yellow as he flew upwards. Afraid that the boy would shatter the crystal and hurt himself, Wheatley briefly formed a hole in the dome to let him pass through. He replaced it as soon as possible, with the grinning face of a redheaded Magi-doll staring back at him.

“Oh god, oh god Kevin, I hope you know what you’re-AAAGH!”

A shower of bright, explosive starbursts fell down around the dome, scorching the crystal and the land around Wheatley and Rita. When the light faded, there was a visible circle of broken and shattered dolls lying around the area. It wasn’t much, but it would be room to run.

The shield had taken as much abuse as it could handle, and it shattered around them before crumbling into dust. The waves and waves of dolls advanced, with the strange one-eyed thing still looming from above.

“The moon opened up!” Kevin called down to the others from his hovering spot. “Do you think that’s the Witch in there? But it wouldn’t let me fly up before…”

“Then we’ll make it come down!” Rita ran out into the swarm at full speed, snapping her whip to cut puppet strings by the dozen. “She wants to wear us down? Ha! That’s hilarious! I dunno about you two, but I can go like this for a year.”

Wheatley was finding it much harder to answer her, as he was immediately besieged again by those puppets. He was less confident that he’d last in this swarm. One of the dolls sunk her teeth deep into his arm and tried to pull it right off, nearly succeeding before he sliced its string with the edge of a shield. Did the Glados-Witch really intend to just burn them out? It seemed so much kinder than the manipulation puppets of Doug and the others, in a rather twisted way. Besides, Chell was still missing.

Chell.

**"** WAIT!” Wheatley tried to shout over the swarm, but soon found himself distracted with a puppet in a witch hat.

“Wait what?! I can’t hear ya, Potter! You gotta-You think you can stop me, big guy!? Yeah, you!” Rita’s voice was getting more and more distant as the puppets pulled at Wheatley and practically shoved him further into a sea of Familiars.

“Give a mate some space, will you?!” He sent blue crystal spikes splaying around him, spearing a few unconcerned dolls as he took the chance to look upwards again. The moon-serpent was still glaring down at them, Kevin nowhere to be seen.

_Just bloody perfect_ , he thought. _We’re divided now. Meaning I’m on my own again. Not that I don’t deserve it, but where are Rita and little Kevin!?_

The puppets grabbed at his arms and neck and dragged him before a bigger one standing in the center of the circle, one he recognized all too well. In one moment the Familiar was a wooden toy with a fake beard; in another he was Doug, the adult-disguised Doug Wheatley had known, looking incredibly real and holding out a hand.

“It’s alright, Wheatley. Your plan can still work. Let’s become part of Selene and help turn her into a goddess.”

* * *

 

_It’s fake_ , she told herself. _None of this is real. Only a tiny bit of that Thing made it out. It’s just reaching into my head and pulling out everything I don’t want to think about right now. This is a nightmare, and I need to wake up._

Tendrils of shadow swirled around Chell like a horde of snakes, snapping at her and pulling at the ribbon in the back of her dress. She fired backwards to propel herself, the air around her thick and cold. It was like being in the void of space, though she could breathe.

The Thing didn’t torment her the same way it had done when she’d faced the real thing. Presumably it couldn’t; this was a tiny sliver of it, the only part that had made it into her world. Instead, it reached out its tendrils to try to pull her into pieces.

Voices came out from the bubbling void, echoing from every angle.

“Save us!”

“You know how to help us, right?”

“You stopped the Fire Witch! If anyone can break the system, it’s you! What’s taking you so long?!”

“...Fire Witch?” Chell frowned and shook it off, quite literally, by firing a quick shot at the tendril grasping for her leg. It was coming from the same direction as she’d heard that last plea. All of them were in voices she didn’t remember, all young-sounding, some male and others female.\

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to save anyone. Was it so wrong to want to save herself, too? And to what end had it all been, anyway? She hadn’t been able to save Caroline or Alice, and Kevin was just as doomed. Even Wheatley only wanted her for his own salvation.

Was that what she had to look forward to if she did win? A thousand pairs of eyes looking to her, begging her for something she couldn’t deliver, never knowing if her friends were really her friends or just looking for impossible salvation?

“No. Stop,” she told herself as she flew upwards, taking another series of shots at the mask. They seemed to have no effect, the face of the False Goddess just too huge to even notice. “This isn’t me. It wants to break me. I can’t break.”

That was a lie. She knew full well she could break. If nothing else, she might be trapped in this oblivion until something within found a way to do it.

Tendrils formed into hands, two of them grabbing at her arms from opposite directions and pulling with terrific strength.

“You’re always so cold!” one of them snapped, an unrecognized female voice. Chell struggled in her binds, taking deep breaths before pulling one arm away, leaving it bruised and heavily scratched; the tendril took bits of skin with it, droplets of Chell’s blood hanging like red pearls in the air.

The other held her right arm so tightly she could feel it going numb at the wrist. It wasn’t possible to use that gun of hers with just one hand, was it? Instead Chell did her best to pry off the vise-like fingers holding her arm at the elbow.

This time, the voice coming from the other end was all too familiar.

“It’s funny how even people who think they know you well only want the useful bits of you,” Glados said from somewhere. Her voice echoed and warbled. “The agreeable parts. They want a princess. Thankfully, becoming a princess is very easy. All you have to do is take the parts of yourself nobody likes…and cut them off.”

A new arm sprouted from the darkness, this one holding a knife. The handle resembled the top of Glados’s staff, with its concentric circles and spiral pattern.

Chell shoved against the hand with all her might, and shut her eyes so she wouldn’t see what came next. She pulled away as fast as she could, but not before discovered what it felt like when blade sliced through bone.

* * *

Wheatley looked up at Not Doug, who gave him a sad, gentle smile. He grabbed Wheatley’s hand and helped him to his feet, the other Familiars letting go.

“Is it better if I talk to you like this?” Not Doug tilted his head. “You probably feel pretty awful about what you did. Don’t you, Wheatley?”

The Not Doug had a grip like iron, and Wheatley had to pull so hard to remove himself that he stumbled backwards into the now strangely still Familiars. “Don’t you use his face and voice to talk. You have no right. No right!” He hugged his elbows. “You’re not even Her. She at least knew him! You’re a bad copy pretending to be another bad copy.”

“I’m offering you a much nicer fate than what awaits you. You have defensive magic, making it difficult to reach your Gem. You heal quickly, so we’d have to tear you to pieces over and over in order to exhaust your capabilities. And you have great difficulty fighting on your own. You’re going to die in my labyrinth.” Not Doug sighed and shook his head. “I would have taken joy in that, but I hold within me part of the Witch of Compassion. She is why I can speak, and why I deign to offer you a kinder death in the arms of one who loved you.”

Not Doug sounded too serene to be Doug, and had never given Wheatley a gentle, fatherly smile like that. He was holding his arms out as if offering a hug, all while the circle of Familiars gawked at him with hungry grins. There were too many of them for Wheatley to fight off on his own; true enough, he would be exhausted eventually without any progress against the Witch herself.

“Guilt will never stop gnawing at you, like an itch,” Not Doug continued. “Let it take you and turn. You won’t suffer anymore.”

The smile on Not Doug’s face was the worst part. It was the way Wheatley had wished Cave or Doug would look upon him, like parent to child.

“...Doug didn’t love me, lady. I’m not deluded. He was nice to me and cared about my well-being, and really that was enough.” Wheatley forced a little smile. “He saved me too, so I’d really be betraying him again if I gave in, yeah?” He held his hands upwards, ready to generate a shield.

“So, hard way I guess! I did my best. But you know, maybe you’re supposed to feel guilt. You can’t get any better without it. I’d hate to be so numb I didn’t even know when I did wrong.” He met Not Doug’s empty gaze. “Is that what it feels like, being a Witch? You can talk and be in a thousand places at once but you forgot everyone around you’s a person.”

Not Doug was now quite obviously a larger wooden doll with a sloppy paint job on the face. His mouth was opened wide, bearing sharp teeth matched by the Familiars Wheatley knew would be upon him at any moment. And good bloody job egging it on, he scolded himself. But at least you’ll last a while, like the Witch said. Maybe if you can see Chell one last time first…

He summoned the blue glow of his shield magic to surround him, only to be interrupted by a flash of green before the world around him sped into a complete blur.

“We ain’t got time to waste on the Familiars, big guy!” Rita had grabbed Wheatley and was carrying him effortlessly in her arms despite their differences in height, speeding through the mass of Familiars and right past the monstrous mockery of Doug. Everything around her was bathed in green light, sparking with electricity.

“...Rita?!” Whealtey stared at her, as looking anywhere else made him feel a little nauseous. “But I thought…”

“That I’m mad at you? Yeah, I am! But I was in the Court, and...oh hell, Potter, just take the rescue!” Rita blew a strand of hair out of her face. “Besides, I always wanted to do the last second rescue ‘n princess carry thing. Too bad there’s nothing to swing from here!”

“Fair enough! I mean...thank you!” There was a certain euphoria he tried to disguise from his voice. “But where are we going? The Witch is up there at the top, and you can’t fly.”

“Where do you think we’re going?!” A wild grin crossed Rita’s face. “Kevin found Chell!”

Wheatley stared at her, trying to deal with the sudden flood of hope. “She’s alive?!”

“Uh, we think? He’s signaling me from above her. See?” Rita pointed ahead.

Wheatley squinted. “I see a blur.”

“Oh, right. You ain’t used to Rita Speed. Just trust me here!” She sped onwards towards the center of the Labyrinth, weaving in between Familiars towards a glowing yellow light.

* * *

 

Cave stood in front of Craig, who was taking deep breaths and trying to assess the situation. Calm down, Craig told himself. Don’t speculate wildly and don’t panic. Assess the facts.

“Kid,” Craig said as he looked down at Cave. “You need to get out of here. This place is full of zombies. This ain’t a place for teenagers!”

“Fact: I don’t think it’s a place for anyone. And I don’t think they’re zombies in the walking dead sense. They’re in a trance. The Witch will try to draw them into her Labyrinth or otherwise kill them.” Craig shivered, pulling his coat around him as snow blew past his face and dusted his eyelashes. “And at this rate, they’ll freeze out here.”

He fumbled with his cell, trying desperately to call his parents. He had to know they were still inside their home. They were too far from the park to be affected, right? This Witch couldn’t be influencing the entire city. Even if it had no problem churning up a blizzard around it and burying the area in snowfall.

The snow might have been a blessing in disguise. It would be incredibly difficult for even entranced people who weren’t in immediate range of the park to get through the streets. Most would shut their windows and stay indoors, especially at this late hour. Maybe that would be some protection.

His phone rang and rang before reaching his mother’s voice mail. His stomach was tying itself in knots. Sure, it wasn’t confirmation that anything bad was happening to them. They were probably fast asleep, thinking their sons were sleeping over a friend’s house. But still…!

“Kid.” Craig felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Listen. I know if any situation looks like it’s worth panicking over, this is the one. This right here. But we still can’t! Because panicking isn’t productive. Got it? Life is handing us some ridiculous horse sh-...crap right now, and it wants us to crack. We’re not gonna give it the satisfaction. Right?”

Craig merely stared up at Cave, praying for the big raving white man to hurry up and start making sense already.

“Take action!” Cave said, gesturing around at the vacant-eyed figures lurching towards them.

“They’re in a trance, right? Help me snap them out of it!”

“But they’ll ask questions! Wait, I mean, you’re right. You’re right.” Craig took another deep breath. “I won’t panic. Fact. I am not panicking.” Kevin and the others needed him to be calm at a time like this. He needed to do what needed to be done, magic or not.

It was time to bring out the Student Council voice.

“HEY! Order! Bringing order here!” Craig cupped his hands over his mouth as he shouted, hoping it would carry over the roaring winds. “You’re not yourselves right now! Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not real. You’re in a…a...” He began to falter, unable to find a rational explanation for those who didn’t believe in monster ghosts.

“ALIENS.” Cave’s voice boomed over Craig, filling the air as several figures turned to stare at him. Cave continued unabated, pointing at anyone who looked at him. “This is the result of an extraterrestrial event! Alien invasion. They get in your minds, citizens! Resist! Snap out of it and break free! You don’t get brainwashed by aliens! That’s not the American way!”

“A-aliens…” Technically that might be true, if the rumors Craig had read about Kyubey on that web board were true. “Mr. Johnson, I don’t think that qualifies as a rational cover story…”

“Of course it’s not. It’s complete nonsense. Completely unbelievable. So people who wake up will think it had to be something more normal than that, and soon enough all the conspiracy sites will be booming while everyone else just comes up with some explanation about holiday-related stress or something. Whatever gets people back in their damn houses instead of outside in a snowstorm at 3 in the morning while your friends and my nephew fight a drug trip monster.” Cave seemed to have full confidence in his theory, though Craig wasn’t so sure.

Still, Cave was nothing if not loud. Several people seemed to snap to attention, looking around in confusion and then running for cover. Others collapsed where they stood, right into the snow.

“I’m going to call 9-1-1,” Craig said, looking back at his phone. He had to set aside his worries to concentrate on the situation at hand. That had to have been what Cave meant, in his own ‘The Johnson family is clearly very strange’ way. “Say that there’s people out here and they’ll freeze otherwise. I mean, you can’t sleep in snow!” He bit his lip. “Wait. What if they ask questions about us being here-oh, forget it!”

As he dialed, he made a mental note to call one more person afterwards. Never before in his life had Craig been so glad he’d asked for emergency contacts for his friends.

* * *

 

Rita came to a perfect stop in front of a flat, smooth surface jutting half a foot out of the sand. When she rubbed some of the sand away it revealed a vast glass circle, like an enormous Soul Gem embedded in the ground. Wheatley knelt next to it as Kevin landed next to him, and all three peered down into its depths.

There, through layers and layers of hard crystal, a figure hung suspended in a fetal position while her dress fluttered around her, held tight by tendrils binding her legs and back. She was facing away, but the ponytail and gown were unmistakable.

There was something off about one of her hands, but Wheatley couldn’t make it out very well from that angle.

“What’s she doing down there?” Kevin tapped on the glass. “Chell? Can you hear us? We’re out here!”

There was no answer. Wheatley pressed his hand against the surface of the transparent jewel, staring down at her. Why was it doing this to her? What was it doing to her in there?

Rita whistled. “It’s really cold, but it doesn’t feel like ice.”

“Uh, yeah.” Wheatley couldn’t tell, and didn’t care. Chell was in there! He climbed onto the center, staring straight downwards at her and tapping harder. “Wake up in there! Please…!”

“Welp! Boys, I think our job is obvious here.” Rita generated electricity into her hands and formed her whip, reeling it back. “Kevin, get those Explodey Stars ready. Wheatley, do that jabby crystal thing. We’ll just pound this thing into glitter for Craig’s art store. One, two, SON OF A…-!”

“Rita! Watch out!” Kevin swooped down to grab Rita just before enormous spikes of diamond shot out from the edges of the jewel, welling up like ocean waves and forming into a thick wall around Wheatley. Wheatley ran for the edge, but by the time he reached it the wall had cuved inward at an angle that made it impossible to scale. He got a brief glance of a panicked, worried Kevin holding a confused Rita as the razor-sharp walls bent into themselves, effectively forming a dome around the crystal and trapping Wheatley inside. It shimmered and turned opaque, enveloping Wheatley in darkness.

The only light came from the crystal surface, a soft white glow surrounding Chell. She wasn’t reacting, and he was alone.

“...Kevin?” Wheatley looked around, desperate for any kind of crack or seam in the dark surface and finding none. “Rita? Where are you two? You’re out there, right?”

He was answered with silence.

“Come back, won’t you!? I mean, I guess you can’t. But you should be here, not me! Kevin, you’ve got that innocent purity thing going on and that’s got to be useful for magic-related things! Rita, I-I’m pretty sure she likes you…! Both of you are far more qualified to help here! Oh, oh no…”

Taking a deep breath, he hugged his chest. There was just enough room in the chamber for him to walk around the middle without him hitting his head, though that was small consolation. He had to calm himself down. Sure, he’d walked right into a trap and he had no idea if Rita and Kevin were okay out there. Apparently the surface he was standing on was very cold, though the only evidence he could find of that was the redness on the palm of his hands when he touched the gem. Did it intend to freeze him?

“So,” he whispered. “I can do this. I can. Just break it open, like Rita said.” He remembered the trick he’d used on Witches during his ill-fated solo hunts, forming a barrier of spiked, jagged crystal around him on the surface of the gem. With a clench of his hands, he sent those same blades downwards. They shattered immediately, leaving a spray of razor-sharp crystal that sliced fine cuts into his skin.

He stared downwards, seeing not so much as a tiny crack in the surface. He tried it again, this time setting his hand directly on the surface and spreading his attack outward. A flash of blue, a spray of crystal and his magic was pulverized against something that might well have been actual diamond for all he was able to do against it.

“Come on. Come on!” Wave after wave of crystal had no effect. His hands were cracking on the dry, cold surface and starting to bleed. “Bollocks! Come ON!” His voice broke as his barriers grew more irregular and cracked, the spikes less like fine needles and more like broken glass.

Back on his knees again, he stared down at the pristine surface of the gem. Rita could have flooded it with electricity. Kevin could have bombed it from above. Hell, if Craig still had his hammer he’d be golden here, Wheatley was sure.

Of course. That’s why it trapped him here and not the others. The Witch knew. It knew exactly how to make him turn. Wheatley was right there, in front of his best friend who he’d wronged terribly, and unable to do a thing for her.

He couldn’t help it. Exhausted and desperate, he collapsed against the jewel and sobbed into his arms. This was going to do it, he knew. There was nothing she could do to break out of that, and there was no way he could help. He wasn’t strong enough. In the end, he really was all talk.

Talk.

He had to force himself to speak, as his instinct was once more to freeze up at the very thought of talking to her again lest he say one more terrible thing and regret it later. Peering down at her through tear-clouded eyes, he wet his lips with his tongue and took even breaths. It’ll be easy, he told himself. You can do this. Just talk.

“Chell? Can you hear me?”

There was no answer besides the faint sounds of battle outside of the dome, rattling wood and explosive magic.

“Hey, well. Listen. I have to apologize again. I thought maybe I wouldn’t have to if could get you out, but that’s silly, right? That’s just as selfish. Still all about me.” He rested his chin on the back of his hand so he could keep staring down at her.

He thought he heard the impact of something against the crystal to his left, but when he looked over he saw nothing. It didn’t matter to him if it was real or just his nerves.

“I can’t, though.” His voice was halting and shaking, and he still had to fight the urge to shut down entirely and go silent once more. “I’m not strong enough to break this thing. Can’t even make a dent. God, it-it feels good to admit that, in an awful way. When I made that stupid bloody wish, I thought I’d end up some ridiculous superhero who would sweep in and help you. But you don’t need that! You never did. I was the one who needed you, and I-...!”

Snap.

It didn’t hurt, but he knew immediately he’d been stabbed in the shoulder. The pressure was there, and the sickening sense of a spike withdrawing from his flesh. When he looked up at the dome he saw it had sprouted spines on the inner surface, one of them dripping with blood. They waited there, hanging like rows of shark teeth.

Why had it only started doing that now, when he was talking?

Forcing himself to look away, he balled his hands into fists and got back onto his hands and knees, facing Chell again. This time he spoke just a little louder, hoping it could get through layers of jewel.

“I’m not sure how much time I have left here, so here goes. I’m sorry I lashed out at you.” He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and the words came faster. “I’m sorry I used you like Kyubey used us. Same deal, smaller scale.” No reaction from Chell, which was somehow worse. At least if she’d turned at him to glare and reject his apology, he’d know she was alive.

“I mean, at least I know what I-” SNAP. He was cut short as another spike plunged through him, this time into his leg. How long until one managed to hit his Gem? Or worse, how much longer could he resist turning with a badly wounded body? “F-fine! Fine, I can endure it. It doesn’t even hurt. Honest…”

Deep breaths. He could do this, He could last long enough to reach her. She deserved that much.

“I mean, at least I know what I am now. Support. Good at shields and defense and, um, talking. LIke I’m doing now. Talking…! That’s it. That’s why it’s getting so mad at me now!” SNAP. He was able to ignore the jab into his foot and another against his ear, though the latter sent blood trickling down his face. “I...am support. So I’m going to talk to you. I’m going to talk louder than whatever you’re hearing down there, and hopefully you’ll be mad enough to break out. You want to, right?” He made himself smile, even though she couldn’t see it.

“I think you can, though! Break out, I mean. You’re...still dazzling. Not-not in a creepy way! I mean I still...forget it.” He slumped against the surface again. “But it’s not just that glamour you talked about, although really, is it so bad to inspire people? Give ‘em someone to look up to? I mean sure, some of them turn out like me. But that was me! I did that to myself. And you know what you did?”

This time the smile was genuine. “You got Rita back on the right track even after all that garbage Glados put in her head. You helped Craig and Kevin, and even if it didn’t turn out as we’d hoped, Craig’s going to live a long life! A really long life. He made it out.” He had to catch his breath; how had he ever managed to babble like a stream before? It used to seem so effortless, and now it was like learning how to ride a bike for the first time. “And we miss you. We were all starting to become friends, real friends before I mucked it up…!”

SNAP. That spike went through his stomach, hard enough to bounce off of the glass beneath him. A little closer and it would have hit his Gem on his hip. “And this is...definitely going to kill me. But hey! At least they retract. Maybe enough of these things will break it open and you can come on out. I really, honestly believe in you, even if there is no Goddess. Not just because I think you can save us. That’s...unfair, demanding someone else save you. I was being unfair, on top of everything else. And if we do make it out somehow, all of us, I promise we’ll never make a demand of you like that again.”

Was it his mistake? Did she stir there? He thought he saw her wiggle a little in her prison.

“There! See, there you are!” He had to concentrate in order to shout. “I knew you’re still in there! You’re stronger than her. And whatever she’s doing to make you turn, don’t listen! I’ve been there.” He wiped blood off off his mouth and chest. Even if it didn’t hurt, he could feel his body weakening faster than his Gem could heal the wounds. “Close to despair and all. I didn’t tell anyone because-I don’t know, because I’m a moron and I wanted you to be impressed. It doesn’t even feel bad, right? Sort of numb. But just fight through it this one time! Even if it’s going to happen again someday, and even if we may not live to adulthood, at least the next time it happens you won’t be alone. I won’t be alone. None of us will be…!”

It was strange. The more he talked like this, the better he felt. It wasn’t that the guilt was gone at all, but that strange, omnipresent weight that had been on his mind since Doug had found him in the rain was beginning to lift. He liked helping people. His gem wasn’t darkening nearly as fast as he thought it was, despite the onslaught of attacks. What was so bad about being support, anyway?

A spike went through his chest, another through his legs. They made that clacking, snapping sound as they hit the glass. He tried to ignore any other sounds they made as they stabbed at him.

Glaring up at the ceiling, he slapped his own forehead. “What am I thinking?! I make barriers! I’ve got some magic left…!”

He shielded himself, watching the spikes pound against his barrier relentlessly as Chell started to stir again. Despite himself, he felt a grin spread across his face. “Oh, don’t like this, do you? Can’t isolate us forever.” He had no idea where he’d gained this sudden flood of adrenaline, but it might well have been the last one he had, and he was going to shout at the top of his lungs if it meant Chell could hear him.

“You think you can shut me up!? When I’m talking to the only person on this planet who ever had faith in me?!” The spikes slammed against Wheatley’s barrier in a wave, cracking it. Beneath him, Chell started to struggle in her sleep.

“You can cave me into pieces and I won’t care! It doesn’t hurt. I’m not human enough for that anymore, so I might as well take advantage. I’ll stick on this thing like a bloody lamprey and I’ll talk ‘til you rip my throat out if it helps her break free! And she will, you know. She’s stronger than you and you know that, don’t you? That’s why you’re doing this to her. And you think I’m the weakling of the bunch whose buckets and buckets of issues will make for fine Witch food. And you know what?”

He wiped sweat off of his forehead. “You’re right. But I’m Wheatley Elliot Johnson! And I never! Stop! Talking! The only one who can shut me up is me…!”

SNAP.

He felt it before he realized what had happened.

Just one long, thin spear had broken through the barrier, piercing right through his throat. It didn’t feel like anything more than a pressure in his neck, and it made a soft glass-crack noise as it hit the floor. The spear disintegrated instantly, but the wound remained. A metallic taste filled Wheatley’s mouth.

He turned to look back down at Chell, reminding himself that this wouldn’t kill him, even if those spikes eventually would one way or another. When he opened his mouth to speak, nothing came out but blood. It dripped onto the glass, staining it red as deep cracks began to form.

* * *

 

The good news was, Chell still had most of a right hand.

Her middle, ring and pinky fingers had been swallowed by the darkness. Chell counted that as a small blessing, too. She didn’t want to see the severed digits floating around anymore than she wanted to look at her bloodied hand.

Glados liked to initiate people into the Court by telling them about the true nature of the Soul Gem and seeing how they took the news. Chell had managed to hold off throwing up and crying until she’d arrived home, impressing the late White Queen with her collected response. She was good at keeping it inside.

Now Chell had trouble seeing it as anything more than one more tiny, awful blessing. If the Gem was severely blunting the pain burning through her hand, she didn’t want to imagine the real thing.

There was no hiding a scream this time. She held her own wrist and pushed forward, a maniacal flight up the mask as if there would be any sort of exit on the other side. The droplets of blood trailed after her; she had no time to heal her wounds immediately, nor the magic to spare.

The mask towered over her at the same height no matter how far she flew, and the hands and tendrils behind her always kept pace. In desperation, she opened a portal at what looked to be the top, flying through another right in front of her; it deposited her in the same place, the wall of darkness advancing even faster.

And the voices didn’t stop.

“You can’t die! Promise you won’t die. Promise you’ll never become a Witch. PROMISE.”

“Humans are illogical! Even you are. You always will be, no matter how hard you try to escape your own nature.”

“You’re not the Goddess. I’m sorry. There’s nothing you can do to become like Her. Please don’t look at me like that, Glados…!”

Those last two voices. Those were Kyubey and Doug, weren’t they? This Witch wasn’t talking to her.

It was just echoing things Glados had heard.

Then why did so much of it feel so familiar? That sense of defeatism and exhaustion, that belief that she’d never be free of this yoke she’d taken on, all of it was just like the voice which had whispered to her after the portal incident earlier that very night. The voice which had urged her to give up. Her own Witch.

It wasn’t going away, was it? Those thoughts would be with her forever, no matter how long she managed to survive. It wasn’t going to get any easier. Glados had lived on through centuries by preying off of others, and this went through her head.

And Chell knew, no matter how many years she survived, she was going to see this monster in her nightmares.

“There’s no liberation.” That was Glados again, voice flat and exhausted. “No one will save us. There is no Goddess unless I become one. Do you think I’m doing this for my own ego? You think I wanted to be this, Doug?”

Chell curled into a fetal position, tucking her head into her knees as the darkness overwhelmed her. The voices started shouting at high volume, becoming a cacophonous bubble of incomprehensible chatter, all of it pleading, scolding, or screaming in fear. She had to make it through this. She couldn’t turn here, not without making Selene even more powerful . She wouldn’t even keep on existing if she did; she’d just become part of Selene.

That shouldn’t have sounded so tempting. What good was it to climb forever? She wasn’t strong enough to keep living this way for a year, ten years, a hundred years. Eventually she would break. The pain in her hand was burning and distracting; as Selene, she wouldn’t feel anything.

“...I’m sorry I…”

That voice sounded different, clear and piercing. The memory-voices sounded like poor-quality recordings by comparison. It came from everywhere at once, almost immediately drowned out again by the other voicesl. But the accent was unmistakable.

Wheatley?

“...Going to talk to you...louder than…”

Yes. Good. It was a voice. It wasn’t the one she particularly wanted to hear at the moment, but Chell would grasp onto anything as a lifeline, anything she could use to drown out the darkness, pain and screams. He kept cutting in and out, scraps of his words slipping in through the thousand false voices.

Tendrils pulled at her arms, her hair, her feet. She remained curled up, listening.

“...not just the glamour...is it so bad to inspire people?”

Inspire people. Hadn’t that been her wish? Chell had made it for a reason. She had to have. That was what she needed to do to keep going. Remember, remember…

She remembered Caroline, the Caroline she’d known who wore black with a red scarf and a veil, standing there over her with a kind, wise smile. The Caroline who had found Chell after she’d wandered into a Labyrinth, unable to take a second more of her parents arguing back home. The Caroline who had reached out with a black-gloved hand and pulled her out from the Witch’s grasp. The Caroline who Glados resented, Chell had started to realize, for being the person Glados could have been.

Chell had known from the start she wanted to be like that Caroline, that image of her in her mind. No, she wanted to make other people feel that way. She wanted to inspire people because she’d been inspired.

She wanted to pull someone else out of an abyss and save as she’d been saved.

This time Wheatley’s voice came in stronger, so strong it filled the area as the other voices dwindled to whispers.

“...I really, honestly believe in you even if there is no Goddess, and not just because I think you can save us. That’s...unfair, demanding someone else save you. I was being unfair, on top of everything else. And if we do make it out somehow, all of us, I promise…”

And then it was gone again. Why were there tears in Chell’s eyes? Was that the same boy who had betrayed her not hours ago, the one whose life she’d chosen to spare but whose face she couldn’t bear to look upon? How was he speaking again with the same innocence he’d shown when they’d first met, when he’d looked upon her like-

Like she had looked upon Caroline.

And somehow she knew Glados must have looked to someone else like that, once upon a time. Chell wasn’t sure how she could tell. Maybe it was just wishful thinking. She would never really know what kind of person Glados was under all of her spite and manipulation. Maybe they weren’t very much alike at all.

Something in Chell’s gem glowed a bright orange.

She burst forth from the swarm of darkness, emerging with a new strength. She understood now, or felt she did. She took off towards the mask. She didn’t fire her gun. How could she, with missing fingers?

Instead, she extended the other hand. “Here.”

The shadows pulled away, recoiling as if burnt.

“It’s alright,” Chell told the mask. “It’s going to be fine.”

When she looked at it again, it somehow didn’t seem quite so huge. It wasn’t that it was shrinking, merely that it just looked as if it hadn’t been so big the whole time. She flew closer and closer, meeting resistance only from the pressure of the air. When she touched it, she found she could pass right through.

There was nothing on the other side but a white-haired girl, bound in dark tendrils.

Gold eyes opened slowly as she saw Chell, turning her head with a great deal of effort and glaring.

“What do you think you’re doing? How did you get here?!”

“You let me here. You pulled me here.” Chell floated in front of her, the pain in her hand nearly gone as the wounds dried up into nubs. “There had to be a reason.”

“It was so I could kill you. You’re even dumber than I thought.” There was no fight left in Glados; her spite was laced with exhaustion. “Wait, what are you-what do you think you’re doing?!”

Chell reached forward again with her good hand, wrapping it around Glados’s shoulder and pulling her forward. The tendrils snapped away easily.

Glados shoved her back. “Stop it! This is ridiculous. I still hate you. I still hate you, you know! You think I liked living alongside the person I knew was going to kill me? Knowing you had to do it eventually, for the good of both of us?”

Chell just shook her head. “You’re safe now. It’s alright.”

Glados pulled back again, though the tendrils didn’t return. There was nothing else around them but the void; the mask was gone completely.

“I hope you hate it, too.” Glados wrapped her arms around her midsection. “I hope you defeat Selene and save this stupid city over and over and over, and I hope you hate it too. I hope you make a thousand new disasters. I genuinely do…”

It didn’t sound genuine at all.

“Come on.” Chell reached for Glados’s hand and started pulling her upwards. “They’re waiting for us.”

“They’re waiting for you. I’m dead. I’m just memories. Like ghost data. I’m all that’s left of...well. You wouldn’t understand.” Glados hung behind Chell, and when Chell looked behind her she saw sadness in those eyes.

“You know,” Glados continued, “you’re not the goddess.”

“It’s alright. She might be somewhere. She might not.” Chell made herself smile even though she wanted to cry. “We have to go now…”

“...Not where I’m going.” Glados’s body started glowing brightly, her hand slipping right through Chell’s as if made of smoke. “I’m going to make sure of that. Goodbye, Chell…”

The white light was blinding as it had been hours before, and Chell felt the world shatter around her.

* * *

 

A hand clasped around Chell’s wrist, pulling her up through a wall of shattering glass.

As her vision cleared, she could make out her surroundings. She was back on the ‘desert’ level of the Labyrinth, though the tent-sky had given way to stars. Wheatley was crouching next to her, blood staining his blue tuxedo and dried on his lips. He had wounds he wasn’t healing on his legs and chest, blood trickling from one ear. More alarming was the hole in his throat, no bigger around than a penny and glowing with the magic he had to be using just to stop the bleeding. He made a wordless sound when he saw her hand, moved as if he wanted to hug her, and then stopped.

Kevin landed right next to her, setting Rita down. “CHELL!” He spoke before anyone else, hugging her around the shoulders.

She gave him a weak smile. “I’m okay, really. Honest.”

“What the hell happened down there?!” That was Rita, hands on hips. “You stay up here where we need you, alright?...Good goddamn, Wheatley, you get used as a dartboard or something?”

Wheatley shook his head, making what Chell assumed to be reassuring hand-gestures. Of course. A wound as serious as the one in his throat would take a lot of magic and some time to heal, and Wheatley probably couldn’t spare it.

“Hey,” she whispered as she set a hand on his shoulder. “I heard you in there. I don’t know how, but...we’re going to work this out.”

His blue eyes widened and then filled with tears that started to wash away the dried blood on his face.

“Kevin,” Chell commanded. “We need you to…”

She trailed off as she noticed the tendrils of white mist filling the Labyrinth, surrounding them all. It bore an unsettling resemblance to Glados’s old poison attacks, but this felt reassuring, warm and gentle. An orange glow penetrated the haze; when Chell looked down, she saw her gem glowing at full power.

“I think-I think whatever that was just refilled us! I don’t know how.” Kevin, himself displaying a golden glow, immediately ran over to Wheatley and started using magic to close his wounds. It stopped the bleeding, but it wasn’t enough to restore Wheatley’s voice. He just thanked Kevin with a shy nod.

“That doesn’t happen in a Labyrinth. Dang, Chell.” Rita jerked back at the broken chamber. “What’d ya do to it in there?”

“...This isn’t me.” Somehow, Chell reasoned, Glados had lived up to her last promise.

Rita snorted. “Whatever. Glad you’re back, you reckless jerk.” Rita grinned and slapped Chell on the back. “Well, most of ya.”

Chell looked back at her hand and grimaced; it had healed over, but the fingers were still missing. Presumably a Gem couldn’t just regrow body parts, at least not that quickly. “I don’t know how I’ll be able to fire my gun like this…”

She stared up at Selene, the Witch hanging suspended from the split moon directly above them. Selene was a figure of a woman with long white hair sitting astride a white serpent with gold eyes, her face covered with that same mask from the voice.

She looked right back down at Chell, and the moon fell.

Chell had enough time to open two portals, and didn’t need to order the others to follow. Rita shoved them all forward, giving them the boost they need to stumble out of the second portal a safe distance from where Selene crashed to the ground.

Selene was massive, towering over the three Magi. Her face beneath the mask was a void. She wore a dress like Glados’s, but the wings reminded Chell all too well of the ‘goddess’ in Doug’s mural.

“I think we made it mad.” Kevin was shaking again, but he shook his head when Chell offered a reassuring shoulder-squeeze, taking off flying. “Do we just blast it into oblivion like a video game boss?”

“We kick its ass, obviously! And after the night I have had,” Rita said with a feral grin, “I am really gonna enjoy kicking this thing’s ass.”

“No. Wait.” Chell held her hands out. “I know what to do now.” How had she never tried this before?

Discussing her plan would have to wait, as Selene’s serpent vomited forth a cloud of noxious venom. Kevin flew upwards and Rita darted away; Wheatley managed to form a barrier around himself and Chell, though not before Chell got a lung-full of stinging toxin. She coughed and sputtered, wiping her mouth before turning to Wheatley.

“Wheatley. I need you for this plan. I need to know I can trust you. And after tonight, I’m not sure I can.” She made sure he was looking her straight in the eyes, trapping him in what she hoped was a penetrating gaze. “Can I trust you? Can you use your spell to protect me this time?”

Wheatley stared at her as if she’d slapped him, terrified. He withdrew, his barrier fading as the poisons did.

“God dammit,” Chell hissed. Voice or none, this was not the time for him to be waffling. She nearly summoned her gun before remembering she couldn’t use it with one hand, instead grabbing Wheatley by the wrist and leaping away with him seconds before Selene’s massive tail lashed out at them.

He grabbed her arm and squeezed it, taking a deep breath before nodding.

“Okay. That’s a yes, right? Good. Rita!” She called out to the girl in green. “I need you to lure it over to where I need it. You’ll know what I mean! Kevin, bombard it until it follows!”

“Lure it? I get to be bait?...Awesome!” Rita tossed a blast of lightning at Selene and took off running again. The electricity did virtually nothing against the powerful Witch, but it seemed to catch her attention.

Behind Selene, Kevin hovered in a circle, his little meteor attacks showering the Witch from above. They barely made so much as a dent.

“We’re not strong enough to defeat it like this,” Chell told Wheatley. “But there’s something we can do. When I give the signal, put your shield around me. And keep it up there,” she added. He winced and Chell almost felt guilty about it, but this was not the time for awkward conversations.

Chell turned towards the Witch, looking once more at her refreshed Gem. She had enough magic. She could do this.

As she spread her arms, a massive portal opened up behind her. It glittered like a huge mirror reflecting a sea of stars and elseworlds. She stood waiting for the Witch, daring it to go for her. Go on. You know you hate me. I’m the one who stole your heart.

Rita seemed to realize what she was doing right away. “Wait-wait. Chell, what the hey? You’re not going back in there, are you!?” Panic was seeping into the girl’s voice. “What nonsense did he talk you into now?!”

“It’ll be fine,” Chell called back to Rita. “I’m coming back. I promise.”

She gave Wheatley a single nod.

Wheatley clasped his hands together and shut his eyes, the blue light of his perfect barrier spell blooming around Chell. It was stronger this time, somehow more solid and certain, even if its caster was trembling and facing away from her.

“I hope you know what you’re doing…but here goes!” Rita wrapped her whip around the tail of the huge Witch, pulling with all her might and uttering a few choice oaths as she did. Blasts of stardust from behind shoved it forward, inch by explosive inch. It fought at every turn, lashing at Kevin and knocking him to the ground. It flung Rita away, snapping her chain. The woman atop the serpent was starting to panic, looking back and forth and throwing back her head in masked rage.

Even as it laid furious eyes on Chell, it didn’t budge. Maybe it still had some of Glados’s intelligence in there somewhere.

“Uh-uh.” Rita climbed back up from a sand dune, bloodied and bruised. Her chain formed again in her arms, and this time she wrapped it around herself. “Not yet. Listen, bucko. I am never gonna have a chance to kick the Queen’s ass for what she did to Alice. I’m never gonna know what she meant by all that knight business, either. She’s always gonna be in my head somehow. But you, you ain’t her. You…”

With a brilliant flash of green light, Rita channeled thunder through her own body. She screamed for a few awful seconds, and then threw herself against the Witch.

“You’re fair game, asshole!”

The currents ran through the Witch’s entire body, leaving her with a green glow and briefly paralyzing her. It took that and one last starry blast from Kevin to do the trick. The Witch screeched in rage, a sound like metal grinding against itself, and the snake dove forward in an attempt to swallow Chell.

Chell leaped once more into the space between worlds, and Selene plunged after. The snake snapped at Chell’s leg, and it was pure inertia that kept her far enough from the Witch to spare her losing toes as well. Just as the Witch crossed through the Portal, Chell closed it behind her.

In a way, it was anticlimactic. Selene had been sliced clean in twain, leaving trails of glowing, tattered substance in her wake. The body started crumbling away, falling into itself and disintegrating into white and black dust. As the nebula of dust swirled around Chell, bouncing off of her barrier, she saw what remained of the Witch itself. There was half of the humanoid’s mask, still moving.

There around Chell were the other timelines. They flickered and twinkled around her, ones where she was older and trapped in a steel labyrinth. One where she was in a rainy city that looked like it might have been London. Another where she stood in a field of wheat, beneath the gentle sky.

One where she walked alongside her friends, all of them happy and content as if they’d never seen combat at all. So even if a goddess didn’t exist, a paradise did.

Even as she caught a glance of that strange paradise where the world seemed to glimmer and black feathers blew in the wind, a tendril of shadow reached out towards the timeline. That’s right. She’d wanted to go in after it to make sure the job was done. She wanted to be sure it didn’t escape to any of those other worlds glimmering around her. But without her gun…

It was just a weapon. What had Caroline told her about the Magi weapons? They were pulled from the essence of the soul. A weapon could change with the user’s will. She held her good hand out, concentrated and imagined the maiden warrior Craig had told her about, the one who had fought a Fire Worm Witch and inspired thousands of Magi after her. The one who had, somewhere along the line, become something else.

White and orange metal burst fourth in her hand, sprouting in a long rod that bloomed at the top into a circular pattern. Where Glados’s staff had a concentric spiral pattern, this one held two circles, like little portals. At the very center something black and violet flickered, a tiny bead of energy.

But what Chell used her staff to call forth was a burst of explosive light, a bomb. Poison gas would never be her style.

* * *

 

Rita would admit later, with much reluctance, that using herself as a battery might have been a bit overboard. As it was, she was sure that burnt smell was coming from her and there were bright spots in her vision.

With a bit of reluctance, she glanced over at her gem on her finger. The ring itself had melted into a shapeless blob of metal, but remained in place. The gem itself…

Well, it was just a scratch. She’d be fine. Rita could walk it off.

The air around them rippled and warped as a blast of cold hit like an ocean wave. It blew away the starry false sky, the scraps of the moon, the desert and the warped shaped. In its place was nothing but white, the hills of the park covered in a thick blanket of freshly-fallen snow. The sky was clear. In the distance she could see slumped forms, entirely too many humans lying in that snow, and the pit of her stomach churned. Were they too late?

Kevin landed next to her, frowning. “Are you okay? I think we did it! But...you shouldn’t do reckless things like that!”

“You sound like your brother,” Rita wheezed. “Oh my god, it’s cold. Oh my god. This is not a winter outfit.” She let her clothes revert back to jeans and a coat, which only helped a little. “God damn witches manifesting in the middle of winter. Damn. That fight was awesome.”

She looked over to Wheatley, who was still so busy concentrating on his spell that he didn’t seem to have realized what had happened. There was no portal at all behind him; Chell had closed it behind her.

“Oh...oh, don’t tell me. She didn’t…” Rita forced herself to stand up. “Come on, Chell! You’re not supposed to be the one who sacrifices yourself! That ain’t how it works. Not after all this…”

Wheatley opened his eyes, glancing over at her. He shook his head and held up one finger as if to say, ‘wait.’

The air warped above them, and Chell drifted down from a portal, pale and visibly exhausted. Her eyes were glazed over as she landed, and she didn’t seem to snap back into reality until Wheatley’s shield dropped from her.

“Chell!” Kevin ran over and clung to her, and Rita didn’t have the heart to point out that was the second time in about 20 minutes the kid had nearly strangled Chell with a hug. That seemed to be his style. As for her style, she planned to swagger over and give Chell a hell of a handshake, a commendation, maybe a kiss on the cheek for good measure. She’d earned all that.

Rita got two steps in before exhaustion and pain caught up with her right as she remembered how difficult it was to walk in fresh snow. She stumbled into a snowbank, turning red as Chell and Wheatley both helped her back up. “I’m fine,” she mumbled. “I’m fine…”

“Kevin!” Craig trudged towards them from the bottom of the hill, the taller form of Cave right behind them. He wasn’t alone, either; there was a woman standing next to him, her eyes swollen as if she’d been crying. Craig showed signs of recent tears, too; Cave was just staring wide-eyed. Almost as if he’d just seen a group of teenagers defeat an otherworldly menace.

Naturally Kevin got a hug from Craig first, before Craig started rambling at mach speed about something Rita was too exhausted to keep track of. Something about “blizzards” and “mass hypnosis” and “zombies.”

“The people down there are asleep. I think they’re already starting to wake up, which is good because falling asleep in snow is dangerous. There are ambulances coming anyway. Mom and Dad are okay,” Craig added in the midst of his outburst. “They’re not out here. I made sure they stayed inside. We’re-um, we’re going to have to explain everything later to them. No lying.”

"Wait, explain to them?” Kevin frowned. “How are we gonna do that?”

“I don’t know!” Craig laughed and hugged Kevin again. “I don’t know. Fact: I don’t care right now.”

Cave placed a hand on Wheatley’s shoulder, and then recoiled. “Sweet Jesus, kid, you look like Hell. You’re going to a hospital. Wait, no?” Wheatley was shaking his head fervently. “Too awkward to explain to nurses? That sorta thing, huh? Well, the Wilson kid did say something about aliens. But look, I’m trying to do the responsible parent thing and you are basically a total mess. Hospital. I can get doctors who won’t ask questions.”

Wheatley didn’t seem satisfied with this, blue eyes wide with alarm. He demonstrated self-healing by closing up a wound on his shoulder and another on his ear, finishing the job Kevin had started, before reverting to his street clothes.

“Well...I’ll be damned. You’re still coming straight home, though. We’re gonna have a talk as soon as you’re, uh, able to talk again.” Setting his hands back on Wheatley’s shoulders, Cave looked his nephew right in the eyes. “It’s gonna be alright. I’m a businessman, remember? And we’ve got science on our side. What can aliens do against science?”

Wheatley didn’t say anything; Rita wasn’t sure he could, still. Instead he collapsed against Cave’s chest, crying, leaving the older man looking a little awkward and unsure even as he supported Wheatley in his arms.

“Wow,” Rita mumbled, “this is way too sappy. Just...not my style.” She told herself she wasn’t lonely; it didn’t matter that her parents wouldn’t be coming over that snowy hill. She was a lone wolf. She’d see them someday, after that one last adventure. Then that struck her as even sappier, so sappy it made tears of what were obviously disgust come to her eyes, and she made a second attempt to march over to Chell. “Hey, Chell. So-ohh.”

The woman with Cave was Marie Vasques, and she had pulled Chell into a tight hug, kissing her forehead. Chell didn’t fight it, nor did she crumble like Wheatley had; instead she just let it happen, neither mother nor daughter saying a word.

Until the mother reached over and pulled Rita into the hug.

“Uh…hey, hey. Remember what I said? Not my style?” But Rita didn’t fight it, either.

 


	26. Epilogue

**One Week After**

Chell had called out of school for two days after the battle. She had spent them mostly sleeping and reassuring both her mother and Rita that she was fine, even with the hand. She'd worn a bandage over her hand and told anyone who had asked she'd injured it in an accident, explaining nothing more.

It was starting to regenerate in its own way, the fingers slowly growing back. She found them grotesque to look at and still covered that hand with a glove, though she wondered if walking around an indoor mall like that made her look more conspicuous.

“I don’t think you should fidget with it. It might not grow back properly.” Craig was sitting across from her at the food court table, his cell in his pocket for once. Next to him sat Kevin, who was looking with starry eyes at Chell.

She begged any divine power that might exist that he wouldn’t ask her to tell him what happened inside of that dream space again. She knew he meant well and the hero-worship, while a bit embarrassing for her, was probably genuine at this point rather than a result of her wish or glamour. But she just didn’t want to talk about it.

Craig seemed to pick up on that, and mercifully steered the subject away. “So, do you think you’ll rejoin track?”

“Maybe.” Chell stared into her mostly uneaten bowl of greasy fried rice. “I know I need something else. Besides...all this.” She at least owed it to Adrian to drop her a text and let her know Chell was still alive. It would be a distraction, if nothing else.

“If you rejoin track I’m gonna have to enroll in school again or something so I can beat you. Nothin’ personal, just how it is.” Rita came up from behind Chell, grinning and flopping herself into a seat at the table. “Sorry I’m late. You know me. Good at lots of things, just not at being on time.”

Craig wrinkled his forehead. “Fact: You and Chell live in the same place. How did you get here so late? We decided to start eating without you two.” He was holding a falafel pita as he spoke. “And where’s…?”

“Potter? He’s here too. Said he was going to get in line for chicken strips or something like that.” Rita’s grin faltered for a second. “I think he’s stalling. You know, since…”

It was the first time they’d all gathered together since the battle. It would also be the first time Chell would have seen Wheatley since that night. He’d offered to stay away, and even sounded like he might have wanted to, but she’d insisted it was fine.

She didn’t know if she forgave him, or how she felt about him altogether. There was time to figure that out now. At least, as much time as her Soul Gem would allow.

“I-I wasn’t stalling!” Wheatley pushed his way through the crowd, clumsily balancing a tray of chicken and French fries. “Honest! That place always has a line and it’s bloody slow as molasses, but it...I...um.”

He froze when Chell made eye contact with him, looking away. He at least looked more well-rested, without the haggard, sunken-eyed appearance he’d had while his gem was being depleted.

It almost looked like he expected the table to reject him, even though Chell had been the one to send the e-mail suggesting the meeting place to begin with. Instead Kevin moved aside to give the taller boy room to sit, and Wheatley sank into his chair as if apologizing for taking up space.

There was a thick silence hanging over the table for what felt like an unbearable ten minutes, though Chell suspected it was less. Usually in such scenarios it would have been up to Wheatley to fill the conversation void, but he was just staring down at his chicken as if he, too, didn’t have much appetite.

Rita apparently decided it was up to her, instead. “So! Uh, how’s the voice?”

“Not-not too bad! It just took a few days to heal. Uncle was pretty alarmed about the whole, um, hole thing. It closed up in an hour or so but the vocal chords were nonfunctional for a bit.” Wheatley was still a little hoarse, come to think of it. He ran a hand over his neck. “Glad it did, though. Man alive, could you imagine if I couldn’t speak anymore? Wouldn’t be able to say...things…”

He fell back into a distant stare, once again not quite making eye contact with Chell. She wasn’t sure she would have been able to look him in the eyes either.

“So,” Wheatley finally mumbled, “I’m still allowed here? I mean, even after…?”

Leave it to Wheatley to push the most awkward subject of conversation either way. But it was Chell who had initiated this, hadn’t she? She’d told herself she was ready to face him again, no matter how she felt about him. There had to have been a reason for that.

She squeezed her functioning hand and forced herself to look right at him, giving her hardest, most focused gaze so she wouldn’t lose her nerve.

“That stuff you said. In the Labyrinth. Did you mean it?”

“With my life,” Wheatley said without hesitation. “I meant all of it. You don’t lie when you think your friend is doomed, yeah? Well, I don’t. Listen, I’m sure it didn’t mean much coming from a moron like me, but I didn’t just say that to keep you from turning. I wouldn’t insult you like that.”

Chell had not heard more than a tenth of what Wheatley had said. She knew that. She didn’t even know what kind of promise he was trying to make to her. Even if his actions were largely due to a corrupted Gem, it was a huge leap of faith on her part to trust him again. He would eventually grow corrupted again if he didn’t die in battle. It was the life a Magi led, and the next time he might not come back from it.

But she reminded herself why she had denied Glados’s offer to use Wheatley as a sacrifice even when she thought she hated him. She remembered what she was using to assure herself she was different from Glados, even if she was taking on the role that had twisted the ancient Magi into a Queen.

She offered her good hand across the table.

“Rita gave me a second chance. So did Glados. I’m giving one to you. Don’t waste it.”

Wheatley stared at the hand bewildered for a moment, then reached out and gingerly shook it before pulling away. That was enough. He remained on the other side of the table, and she suspected he needed the distance between them as much as she did at that moment.

Whether it was a permanent trench between them or a gap to close up again someday wasn’t something Chell could say at that moment. She didn’t want to say. The ambiguity was welcome, now that no one was about to die.

“So! In less uncomfortable news. There’s no more Court.” Rita grabbed Chell’s fried rice and stuffed a forkful in her mouth, and Chell let her. “I think Penelope and Alex made it out of that Labyrinth alive, but they ain’t been seen in town much since. I don’t know what kind of home lives they had. From what I heard, it was pretty nonexistent for both of them.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “A lot of Courtiers were like that. You know, needed a surrogate family and Glados preyed on that because I guess she was miserable too. Hey, promise me ya won’t do that.”

“Do what?” Chell blinked.

“That thing I just talked about Glados doing! Come on, how often do I get all psychological like this?”

“I’m not the new Queen.” Chell thought now was not the time to bring up the gun transforming into a staff. Maybe that was temporary.

“Well, you’re the leader! People are gonna start looking to you, especially since there were a few stray new recruits who kept their heads down during that whole business. Left it to the pros, like me. And, uh, the rest of you.” Rita devoured another mouthful of fried rice.

“Then we’ll all be there for them, right?” Craig said. “It isn’t the same as the Fire Worm situation. She faced it almost entirely alone, though I’m starting to think Doug might have been there at the time too. My reasoning is that she took on a greater ‘destiny’ in the Incubator system when she did that, inheriting all the misfortune she averted by defeating such a powerful Witch. She probably grew resentful over time that using the system to protect ordinary people backfired on her and trapped her in a role she didn’t want, at least until she had no choice to embrace it.”

Rita whistled. “Now who’s gettin’ psychological?”

“Mate, um.” Wheatley nudged Craig gently. “Is that supposed to be encouraging? Because in context it’s kind of not. We did just defeat a big nasty Witch. How do we know we might not turn into four big nasty Witches someday?”

“I mean, you don’t.” Craig lowered his voice, giving a glance at Kevin before continuing. “But you did it together, as a group. You’re all sharing that ‘destiny,’ and I suspect I am too even if I’m not Contracted before. Fewer people lighten the burden.”

“And even if we might become worse Witches someday,” Kevin added, “we can do good in the meantime to make up for it. Glados was really nasty after a while even though she was still alive at that point. We don’t have to end up that way!”

“And she did live a long, long time,” Wheatley said. “She was damn near bloody immortal. If any of us manage to live anywhere close that long, we should just try to use that time to do something good with it. Is that what you’re thinking, mate?”

Craig nodded. “And it’s all speculation, anyway. Honestly, even the idea that there are no ways to overwhelm or break the system hasn’t been proven yet. Just because nobody’s done something yet doesn’t mean someone, somewhere might not manage it. Humanity’s doing new things all the time. That’s what the Goddess was, right? A possibility. Just because she doesn’t exist yet doesn’t mean she never can.”

Chell had a flash of the world where her friends stood happy and unbroken while the sky shimmered violet, and remembered the black feathers. She didn’t comment. How could she begin to explain that?

Rita shrugged. “Yeah yeah, we won’t turn out jerks. Or we’ll stop being jerks. Potter, don’t look like a kicked puppy there,” she added as Wheatley winced. “I meant me too. We’ve both got a lot to make up for.” She blinked, and reached into her backpack. “Wait, that reminds me!”

She pulled out a box of pastels, well-used and covered in bits of colored dust. “Found this at Doug’s place. I, uh. Thought someone should have them before they go in and clean the place out.”

Chell blinked. “When did you go into Doug’s apartment?”

“You know how how to sneak into an apartment!?” Kevin added, fascinated. Craig scowled and elbowed him.

“I am a gal of many talents.” Rita grinned proudly for a few seconds before assuming a more grave expression. “Anyway, I figured Wheatley ought to have these.”

Wheatley had been dead silent since Rita brought out the pastels, tears brimming in his eyes. He turned to Rita in panic, face turning red. “But-but I-I killed him! I mean, I’m the reason he’s dead! Indirectly, but still! He saved me and I brought nothing good into his life…”

“Nah.” Rita shook her head. “Speaking as someone who’s been lonely before, it actually means a lot to have someone believe in you and give a crap about your continued existence, even if they’re a pain in the neck sometimes. You were probably the first person he’d met in decades who believed in anything he had to say. If he’s mad at ya, you’ll know it when you see him again in the end.” She shoved the box towards Wheatley. “In the meantime, learn to draw. It’s good therapy.”

Wheatley hesitated, then picked up the box of pastels and set it in his lap. He said nothing more on the subject, though Chell suspected he was going to ask her questions about art she wouldn’t be able to answer soon enough.

“Oh! Craig! Craig, we forgot!” Kevin smacked his hands on the table in eagerness, almost knocking over a few drinks in the process. “Sorry. But Mom and Dad are having a party! A big-a big art party.”

“Some of Mom’s sculptures got accepted into a gallery,” Craig said. As usual, it was hard to read his level of enthusiasm; it seemed like Kevin tended to emote for him when the two were together. “She’s taking everyone out to dinner to celebrate, and said we can invite our friends.”

“But also we can finally celebrate saving the whole city! I mean, we did do that. That’s pretty cool, right?” Kevin looked around eagerly. “Oh, uh, we haven’t told our parents about this whole thing yet.”

“We will,” Craig added hesitantly, though neither sounded enthusiastic about it. Chell couldn’t blame them.

“Yeah. Eventually. But come on! We never get to go out to eat like this. And it’ll be fun. We have to have fun sometimes.” Kevin looked around the table, eyes shining at the prospect. After all that, he still had some of his innocence and all the energy. Chell coudn’t help but smile at that.

Wheatley had been thrilled at the prospect of a dinner party the first time Craig had asked them over; this time he just gave a shy nod.

“Chell and I’ll be there,” Rita declared, making the decision for Chell apparently. “We love...vegetable...food with no meat in it. I mean you’re right though. All this dour stuff ain’t my style and I really need to enjoy myself sometimes. Gotta do it to survive, right?”

Chell looked around the table once more, and shook her head. “I don’t want to think about what we ‘have’ to do to survive. Let’s just...live for now.”

She let the others talk for the rest of the meal, keeping to herself and her thoughts and happy to do so. She never was good with words.

 

**The End**

* * *

 

Well! I can’t believe I’ve stuck with this thing for so long and made it to the end. It honestly started out as a crack AU fic I didn’t expect to go anywhere and ended up blooming into an elaborate hybrid AU between two completely unrelated sources I happened to love. I hope you’ve enjoyed it! If nothing else, it’s been an absolute blast to write.

This story is over, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to revisit the Grief Science universe someday! I’m probably going to write some stand-alone stories about the characters in the story, including at least one prequel about Glados/Caroline Glades. There’s a lot I didn’t have time to explore and explain, and I want to go back and do that sometime. Plus the characters simply need more follow-up that I couldn't cover in this last chapter. (You may also have noticed a sequel hook or two I planted in the final chapter…)

If you liked this story, may I ask you to take a look at my ongoing original web fiction serial? It’s called The Exiles Ever After, and it’s a fractured fairy tale about oddballs and outcasts coming together to find solace in one another. It’s also about baking magic, uplifted moths, teleportation flowers and a tiny science princess. You can find it at <http://www.jukepop.com/home/read/6172?chapter=1> or <http://www.wattpad.com/story/32585717-the-exiles-ever-after> and be sure to check every Friday for updates. Consistent updates this time!

Special Thanks To:

Aryashi, The_Unsigned and MVTK42 for your encouragement, support and prodding me to write when I need to write already. I’m so happy to have made friends through this story and I’m honored to be friends with all of you. (And a second thank you to Aryashi for her careful editing and vigilance against my comma abuse!)

Ceffyjellynoodle for helping me out with the initial character designs, drawing some lovely fanart and generally being an awesome person.

RandomNumbers523156 for your awesome comments and support, along with that review on TV Tropes. Thank you so much!

Everyone who commented. Everyone! Comments make my day so very, very much. I LOVE YOUR COMMENTS. I LOVE THEM.

Everyone who kept up with the fic up until now, patiently dealing with my spotty update schedule over the course of several freaking years and making your way through 150k+ words of an improbable fusion AU. All of you.

 


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